


Breath deep, breath clear, know that I'm here

by louloubaby92



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:34:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 45,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louloubaby92/pseuds/louloubaby92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis makes his dreams come true with One Direction and it is everything he never knew he wanted, but it’s massive and overwhelming and sometimes he can't take it, not alone at least. Harry is right there with him, filling up the hole in his heart in more ways than one and together, they soldier on, holding on tight to their dreams and tighter to each other. Nothing stops them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is another fic that got taken down and fully permitted by the author who no longer writes fic and discarded all her works, i decided to edit this into oblivion and turn it into my own, while maintaining the plot line and keeping it intact. there is still a bit of similarity to the old version edit-wise but i assure u i have done my best. now, a few things i need to point out;  
> 1-title from ''heart like mine'' the soundtrack song of the movie ''if i stay''. great tune.  
> 2-this work was inspired by a number of fics, and all credit goes to their respective owners;  
> -''the sunshine series'' by significationary  
> -''Catch me I'm falling'' by Morgan  
> -''how to disappear'' completely by lovelylittlelouis  
> -''beloved'' by thewhitetoymaker  
> 3-this is a work of fiction and not all the medical parts has any accuracy in them but i did do some research if that helps. i am but a writer with an affinity for google search not a qualified medical expert.  
> 4-someone on tumblr asked for this right around the time i was editing the last parts so this is for you, anon!!!!  
> 5-anyone out there who has a fic they want me to edit, feel free to drop by and let me know on my email louloubaby92@yahoo.com  
> 6-comments, kudos, whatever works but most importantly, enjoy!!!!!!!

_“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”_

**Sylvia Plath**

 

He couldn't bring himself to say it, especially when he thought there was no way he would actually go that far. He thought that was it; he auditioned for the X-factor, was told by the best that he was an amazing singer. He was able to prove his mother wrong, that he was more than just the hole in his heart, more than just the lead role in his high school portrayal of Grease. He had gone as far as boot camp and to him, it was good enough. To Louis, the short-lived journey was more than enough.

 

But it didn't stop. He honestly doesn't expect it when his name is being called, doesn't expect to stand next to a curly-haired lad, along with three other boys. He doesn't expect a twist of fate, a continuation of a dream he knew he couldn't possibly ask for, let alone allowed himself to dream of. But it happens, and he is happy beyond his wildest dreams because maybe he is allowed to dream, maybe he is allowed to be happy and that he's allowed to ask for more than just settle for a life of whims and day dreams, a fruitless hope for a miracle.

 

Yes, it's like being given a second chance and at that moment in time, when he jumps on the one called Harry Styles, he knows this is the start of something great.

 

Harry feels the same, hugging that boy to himself, on that stage, then the rest of the lads later on. He knows this can work, that if they forge a friendship stronger than blood, they can make it. So, he invites the boys over to his step-dad's bungalow and there, they establish their bonds of brotherhood.

 

Louis' mom watches in the shadows, not expecting this turn of events. She calls her son every day, makes sure he's taking his medicine, makes sure he is not pushing himself. Louis assures her, over and over again but in all honesty, he is just too excited, too focused on the boys that have now become his brothers to care about himself. He embraces the feeling of having other people to fuss over instead of himself because honestly he is tired of taking care of himself, tired of trying to make his body function normally only to have it fail him, only to have it remind him, that he is just too weak.

 

So, he focuses on Niall, on helping him build his confidence. He focuses on Zayn, on helping him get out of his reclusive shell. He focuses on Liam, on helping him loosen up and be seventeen. He focuses on Harry, who takes things too easily to heart. He loves them so much, like they're his own siblings and through their X-factor journey, he makes sure he gives them as much support as they need.

 

Louis doesn't know how much the boys love him in return. Or well he knows they do, it’s impossible not to since they’re always so touchy-feely with each other, but he really doesn’t know just how much they rely on him to guide their way, how much they wouldn’t be balanced without him, how much they defend him when he’s not aware of the daggers thrown at his back. Zayn confides in him; being the second oldest helps. Niall loves all his jokes and his adorable laugh wins them a lot of votes. Liam is too serious but he allows Louis' sense of humor to infect him, relax him when he’s too stressed. And Harry, well, he does whatever it takes to have Louis' attention, preens under it whenever he's given it and lavishes Louis with unbinding friendship like he's wrapped around Louis' finger.

 

And maybe he is. Maybe his first real crush really is Louis William Tomlinson, maybe their late night conversations, sharing a bunk in the dead of night, has less to do with having the best, most understanding older brother in the world and more to do with loving the safety of Louis' arms, the warmth of his forehead kisses and his sweet voice that is always full of encouragement, even when tired and drowsy.

 

It shouldn't have surprised Harry that when they lose the X-factor, he finds no tears in Louis' eyes. He is too strong for that, stronger than Harry at least.

 

No, the older boy is not crying, just hugging Liam and Niall to himself and sharing a sad look with Harry. Harry on the other hand, cannot help but cry and dampen Zayn's shoulder until the Bradford lad loses his cool and sheds a few tears as well. It is the end of a journey, the end of their dreams and it is so wrong because he wanted so badly to win. He wanted so badly to have more of Niall's laugh, more of Liam's assertiveness, more of Zayn's mystery. He wanted more of Louis' cuddles, more of his voice, more of his everything. But no, they lose and it's over.

 

Louis beckons him forward, with no need for words. He knows when Harry needs him, when his presence is required. Harry just goes, dragging Zayn behind him. There is no better comfort than Louis, they all know it and though he is quite the tight fit, his am encompasses all four of them, hugging them to him and spreading his warmth. Louis is still not crying, even though his jaws are taut and his eyes are dim. But no, he is too strong and Harry loves him ever more.

 

If only they knew why Louis wouldn't cry, wouldn't give in to the harsh reality. There is this tightness in his chest that they cannot see; a pain that reminds him this was all a dream to begin with and he shouldn't have put his hopes too high, shouldn’t be selfish and shouldn’t have expected more. He cannot let them see him cry because they don’t deserve to see that. After all, he is the strong one; he is the one who ought to lighten up the mood with a silly joke so they can laugh a bit and pretend this is all just a stupid bump on the road and not a massive ending to a great career path.

 

It hits them hard when Simon gives them the chance to rise from the ashes, the hope that will make their dreams come true; a contract to make sure One Direction's dream is not over, that it is just the start.

 

It hits them like fireworks and they're beyond words. Sitting at that conference room with Simon, Harry's excitement is too overwhelming he’s speechless, keeps pinching his cheeks wondering if it’s all a dream, and who can blame him when he feels his dreams rejuvenated, when he can now be assured that he won't lose his boys, won't lose Louis.

 

As for Louis, it hits him later. He had gone home that night and felt the same way when he didn’t make it through boot camp. That it's alright, the journey itself counts for something and it was an amazing one, so why ask for more? Why ask for more than four lads who were cause to the best 8 months of his life? He is not leaving with bad memories, only good.

 

His mom is happy and sad. Sad to see the lights dim from her son's eyes when they’d left the stage that night, sad to see him reach for the skies only to be knocked down. But happy to know that he'll go back to taking care of himself, to no longer hiding in the dead of night to take his medicine or lie to her when she knows the stress was too much.

 

But it hasn't stopped, much to her surprise and Louis' shock. It hasn't stopped and it hits him then that this could be a problem. The boys don't know anything, so they don't understand why Louis' mom is pulling her son by the bicep on the day of after the Final Show on TXF, tugging him away as soon as they leave the conference room which held their second, official meeting with reporters and all, demanding he doesn't sign that contract. She was unaware before, thinking that Simon was just being nice, giving them words of encouragement as a parting gift, but a contract makes it real, too real.

 

The boys don't understand why they're not going go out instead to celebrate this brand new beginning, why Louis' mom isn't being supportive like the rest of their family. Louis had explained to Harry just a little bit, telling him that he is her only boy, the eldest of five children and she is scared to lose him. Harry conveys this to the other boys who are concerned by what's happening, but like Harry, scared of losing Louis, that Louis' mom will be able to guilt-trip him into giving his dreams up, giving them up too.

 

Louis doesn't want to worry the boys, slides back to the role of older brother like he was always one all along. He hugs them all, asks them not to worry, kisses Harry's forehead for good measure, pats Niall's hair, squeezes Zayn's shoulder and nods at Liam before he's ushering his mom into a room with big glass, soundproofed windows. There, in front of the boys' pleading eyes -because a few touches from Louis can never be enough- they stand shoulder to shoulder, faces squeezed against the glass as they watch Louis argue with his mom for the first time in his life.

 

 _Your hopes are going up again_ , she tells him. _You're going to kill yourself if you choose this. You said you're satisfied with what you got, why push it, why ask for more_. She says all the right things, points out all the right reasons, display it all out. Later on, Louis will admit that she was right, that he was selfish to ask for more. Down the line, the boys will get hurt, that he will get hurt more and deep down he knows all this but at that moment in time, seeing their faces stuck to the glass window like glue, unable to part with him, hoping he will come out and choose them, well, he had no choice.

 

He pulls the ''I'm eighteen and you can't legally stop me'' card and the hurt on his mom's face as he chooses his dreams over his health shatters her very core. But Louis is also a good talker, always has been able to lie himself out of tough situations and though his mom can see it all, she lets him coax her into a glimmer of a smile, lets him make her understand how the money can do wonders for him, buy his sisters a proper education, find himself a cure. It is all so enticing and Louis is too sweet for his own good so with a hug and a smile, tears and motherly fear aside, she lets him be.

 

The boys rush to him like they did when he got stung by that sea urchin all those weeks ago, run to him and hug him and kiss him because even though their dreams are about to come true, they were going to choose instead to shoot it down if Louis wasn't with them, if he had chosen another way. Therefore, they're glad that Louis chose them and they are so, so happy.

 

So he doesn't tell the boys, or anyone really. He focuses on getting closer to his baby brothers, (even if Liam does act older than him and he cracks too many jokes to be considered mature). No, he's too busy tending to them, loving them, making them laugh and enjoy life the way he himself never thought he could.

 

He gets too busy lavishing Harry with cuddles and kisses to tell him this huge part of himself and he had thought about letting him know a tiny part at the very least. But Harry's big, innocent green eyes, wonderful smile, baby cheeks and to-die-for dimples stop him from spilling the one secret he can never tell. Harry is just too happy, too ambitious, sees a lot of good things happening to them and Louis cannot dampen that, cannot be the cause for his happiness to fade into worry. No, he can worry enough for the both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 _Your lips, your eyes, your soul_  
 _Are like a work of art,_  
 _The most creative thing of all_  
 _Is your beautiful heart._  
  
**Zlata S. Steere**

The night before the release of their very first single, he and the boys haul three beds close and get in for a movie marathon. They're in their hotel in Sweden and they're not really famous enough to provide for individual rooms but it's alright, they don't mind the friction nor do they mind sharing beds. Harry is tucked under Louis' arm on one side, Zayn on Louis' other side, followed by Niall then Liam. They're laughing and cracking jokes, drinking Pepsi and eating Doritos.

 

Harry loves it when he can feel Louis' laugh, feel his chest reverberate with his giggles or when he speaks loud. He cannot help but squirm closer, hold on tighter, enjoying this. Louis is holding him tight in return, his arm secure around his shoulders. He cannot help but card his fingers through Harry's soft hair sometimes, playing with the ringlets of curls, mussing them up and letting them coil like springs.

 

In the middle of the third movie, they drift into a pleasant conversation. They're too excited about tomorrow. Zayn is a bit scared and it is not the first time. He goes silent when he doesn't think things will go well. So, they try to coax a smile out of him, with Louis teasing him and Niall tickling him. It works and now they're talking about their own list of wishes for if they get famous, not yet sure of their strength, or of the impact they're going to have on the world starting from the following day.

 

''I want Batman comics.'' Liam jumps in. ''I want the whole collection and…''

''The original suit that Christian Bale wore.'' Louis and Harry interrupt with a chuckle. They look at each other and laugh.

''Don't laugh.'' Liam snaps weakly. He can never be angry with the boys, what with his big puppy dog eyes and naturally well-mannered behavior. Plus he can never really hide his love for comics.

''I think that's sick.'' Zayn fist palms Liam. (Yeah; he loves comic books too.)

''I want exclusive Nandos, something.'' Niall said after serious pondering. ''Anything that will land me free food from that place.''

They all laugh but not at him, with him. Niall can never deny his love for food and he knows it.

''I want to buy my mom a house.'' Zayn says in a lull in the conversation. They all nod their heads. Their list of wishes is being said in jest; they all want to please their parents first and foremost before anything else, knowing that they owe it to them for being where they are even if it's not that far yet.

 

They continue with reciting their wishes, and it becomes so ridiculous that they're howling with laughter, clutching their stomachs and trying not to be too loud but failing miserably. It's usually Louis instigating it, making them laugh breathless.

''You're crazy, Tommo.'' Niall says with a wide-splitting grin and Louis pretends to pout but not too long. No one can be angry with Niall, not even in jest.

 

It gets late but they talk some more, relate stories with yawns and drowsy eyes. Zayn falls asleep first; his head resting back on the pillow, bracketed by Niall and Louis. Niall is leaning on Liam, flipping though the channels. He finds a Disney film and minutes after he hands the remote back to Liam, he falls asleep. Liam watches and falls asleep half way through, his head resting back against the headboard, his arm around Niall's shoulder slacking off. Niall is snoring on his chest and it's quite endearing.

Harry and Louis are left, watching the movie through half-lidded eyes. Harry knows that Louis is still awake by the rise and fall of his chest. After a few minutes, Louis excuses himself to the toilet. Harry lets him up and seeing his other band mates sleeping, he decided to turn off the telly. He waits for Louis to come back and sure enough, Louis doesn't take long.

''Hey, you don't want to watch?'' Louis asks. Harry shakes his head with a tired smile on his face. Louis doesn't go to Harry immediately though; no, first he adjusts the air-conditioning so that it’s not too freezing, knowing that the boys will be clattering their teeth by morning, seeking body heat and then who knows, they might come down with a cold like what happened with Harry during their third week on the X-factor. Then he maneuvers Liam and Niall into a more comfortable sleeping, draping the blanket under their chins. Harry just watches fondly, watches Louis be all mother hen and he likes it more than Liam being Daddy directioner.

 

But then, maybe he's biased. Maybe it's because when Louis is done caring for the others, he comes back to Harry and pays him the most attention and that’s exactly what happens. Louis turns to their side of the bed and slips under the blanket, his arm naturally going around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close. Harry cuddles close, his arms around Louis' little waist.

''What do you want to do, babe? Should I turn on the telly, put on a documentary or something?''

''Um, no, just want talk.''

''About what, love?''

''Anything.''

''Hmm.''

Louis kisses the crown of his head and keeps his lips there. It's involuntary, just as natural as breathing. Harry sighs with comfort. He loves Louis so much, loves the comfort he emits. He cannot believe he's only known this boy for less than a year but now, he cannot imagine being without him, cannot imagine leading the life he had before all the contract signing and the album recording, before girls started asking for his autograph at petrol stations and saying they are already fans, even though they hadn't dropped a tune yet.

''Hey, you didn't say what you wanted.'' Harry says to divert his thoughts. Besides, he'd much rather focus on Louis. He looks up at said boy, seeing his chin.

''What do you mean, darling?'' Louis tilts his head and Harry catches a perfect view of Louis' cheekbones; so, so beautiful.

''Your wish list. You turned the whole thing into a joke so I didn't get to know what you really wanted.'' Harry had started out with a chuckle that now turned somber. It is rare having a night with a serious Louis, the one who will relay his innermost thoughts and show a cushion-soft side of himself.

 

Harry knows he has secrets, God knows he has his own share too. But he tells Louis when asked, tells him anything he wants. Louis dresses up things with stories and elaborate plots and jokes, can talk for hours about anything really but when it comes to himself, he needs a little bit of coaxing; he doesn't just up anything for the sake of it. Harry thinks he likes that about Louis too, how well he can shield people from his thoughts, from reading him too close. Louis had told Harry once that he wears his heart on his sleeve and that it’s a quality he loves in his curly-haired friend. Harry doesn't think it's all that glamorous when people can see right through your soul because it feels invasive. Louis understands and it makes Harry glow when Louis tells him that opposites attract. Yeah, he knows what Louis means and what the little flutter in his heart has to do with it because Louis pretty much just said he likes Harry and Harry is quite sure he likes the older boy too.

 

''Well,'' Louis ponders with a serious quirk to his lip. Harry smiles in anticipation. He has his eyes closed, just snuggled warmly on Louis' chest, counting his breaths. Louis rests his head back against the propped pillows, thinking seriously. He is always like that; always wants to give the boys anything they ask of him, even if they ask for his thoughts. He thinks it’s the least he could do, considering there will come a time when he will absolutely not be able to say what they want of him.

''Well?'' Harry repeats and when Louis looks down, he sees Harry smiling at him, the way a child smiles when they want a cupcake from mummy. Louis couldn't help but bend his head and kiss his nose. Harry always looks cute, especially like this, up close and warm. Louis diverts his eyes and ponders more, thinking about how to word his thought.

''I wish…'' Louis drawls, still looking away. Then he looks back at an expecting Harry with a somber expression. ''I wish to live long enough to see our dreams realized.'' He shrugs with a simple smile. A slight frown forms on Harry's brow but it's only for a miniscule second before he chuckles.

''Louis, just because you're older than us, doesn't mean you're old.'' Harry points out.

Louis laughs along, glad that Harry didn't understand his hint. He just kisses Harry's forehead and beckons him to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with_

_scars.”_

**Kahlil Gibran**

 

Their first single is a mega hit. Their first video shoot garners so much attention on Youtube and other affiliated channels that it's unreal as it is unprecedented. Their first album sky-rockets and they hit it big, bigger than whatever Louis expected. While the other boys can think of nothing but how their lives are slowly changing before their eyes, Louis is in an all-consuming bubble of panic.

 

There are times when he gets too close to losing control. When the crowds get too much, to the point of suffocation, when during a CD or book signing, he finds the air too tight, too hot. When their car cannot move because it's stuck in the middle of a mob, when any of that happens, Louis keeps his mouth shut, his lips in a thin closure, tries to put all his focus on the other boys, on Niall who gets claustrophobic, on Zayn who doesn't deal well with crowds, on Liam who tends to talk back at paparazzi and Harry, especially Harry who gets most of the crowd going crazy involuntarily and feels like he has to apologize for it later on when he shouldn't.

 

The boys tease Louis sometimes, saying he ought to have auditioned to be body-guard instead of singer because he's really good at it. It is gentle and never cruel because in truth, they all love Louis' protection, whether it is a hand on their shoulders, a curl of fingers at the dip of their backs, a back rub, a hair ruffle. Any of those from Louis helps them get through the day.

 

Even Harry, who is usually always composed and kind-hearted, who could never refuse a fan even if it gets him late to airports, needs that comfort and seeks it out sometimes. He'd put his arm around Louis' shoulder while he waves at crowds, put a hand around the smaller boy's waist while he blows kisses, just to have someone to ground him, someone he can fall back on if things get rough and he cannot keep up a smile.

 

Louis is glad they do not notice, glad he is of use but he is not doing well. Like now, in Milan, they're doing an album signing. The crowds are by the thousands and the air is stifling. He had upped on his meds just to prepare for the day but now, they do not seem to be helping. He keeps drinking water, keeps them bottles coming. His leg won't stop jerking up and down, his knee almost constantly slamming the underside of the desk. His signature is not perfect, his smile, too wide.

He keeps fixing his fringe so as to hide his sweat. He tries to engage the hoards of fans coming up to him, tries to focus his full attention but his chest is pounding, spreading down his ribcage. At some point, he starts rubbing his left pec, trying to be subtle about it. Harry notices and elbows him slightly to ask what's wrong. Louis flashes a grin and takes that as his cue. He cannot have Harry worry.

 

He gestures to Paul and asks to go to the bathroom. Paul nods and gives him way. Louis tries not to run, or in this case trip as he heads for the men's restroom. Once he's in, he dashes for the sink. With shaky hands, he takes out a bottle of prescribed medicine and takes two pills. He drinks water from the tap then swallows. He sighs and tries to catch his breath, let the pills take effect. He splashes water on his face then closes his eyes. He sags a bit as he waits, sitting down on the heels of his feet. He rests his head against the side of the sink, loving the cold touch of the ceramic on his forehead. His hands grasp the counter, leaving the bottle of pills on the counter.

He doesn't know how much time passes but it was definitely long enough for his worst nightmare to happen.

 

Paul walks in.

Paul sees Louis reach for the bottle of pills.

Paul grabs it first.

Paul reads the prescription and what's it for.

Paul looks at Louis with the one thing Louis never wanted to see; shock, dread and pity.

 

His secret’s out.

 

Louis goes back to the table and tries to ignore what’s happened, tries to ignore the worried gazes of his band mates but most of all, tries to ignore Paul's overbearing, fatherly stare.

 

The ride back to the hotel is quiet. Harry holds Louis like a limpet, asks in tiny whispers what's wrong, why he's not bubbly and why his light is dim. Yeah, Harry talks that way, like everyone around is a ball of sunshine.

But Harry doesn't treat anyone like that because not everyone is like the sun, not everyone is as radiant and bright as Louis, and now Louis is quiet and withdrawn, holding Harry back but his touch is distant, his lips on Harry's hair cold and uninviting. The boys watch their interaction in silence, dying to know but choosing to observe. Besides, if anyone can get Louis around, it's Harry. It's always been Harry.

''LouLou,'' Harry whispers for the umpteenth time.

''Hmm,''

''Please tell me what's wrong.''

''Nothing, babe.''

''It's not nothing.''

And Louis can feel Paul's eyes on him from the front mirror, can feel his own stomach dip with the realization that his secret is no longer his and his family's alone. He holds Harry tight.

''Am just tired, love. Nothing to worry about.''

''Sure?''

''Yeah, I'll rest plenty when we get back to the hotel.''

''You'll let me cuddle you?'' Harry asks innocently. Louis never asks for anything so he wants to do this for him, almost eager really.

''Always.'' Louis says, seals a kiss to his forehead.

 

Louis does not return with the boys to their hotel room. Instead, he stops at the hallway and asks if he could speak to Paul in private. The boys are tired but worried. Harry doesn't want to let go, clinging to his hand like a ragdoll, walking with him to the elevator, bags and all. But Louis assures them, says he just needs a minute, kisses Harry's forehead again to erase the worried lines in his brow. Harry reluctantly lets him go but without promising cuddles first so he demands Louis returns quick for that. Louis cannot deny him a thing.

 

He speaks to Paul and tells him what is now deemed a necessity. Louis is not an idiot, he knows he was stupid and that things could've gotten worse. Paul knows and thinks exactly the same way. Together they talk things through. Louis explains he has congenital heart disease. He was born with a hole in his heart and that led to complications and therefore, his condition cannot tolerate stress. Louis dumbs it down as best as he can. He explains it in a way that makes it lesser than what it is. So, he doesn't dress up his words too much science, knowing that complexities mean serious business, so he makes it seem like his case is manageable so long as he sticks to medication.

 

''Do what you want with this so long as you run it by me first,'' Louis says on an end note, after Paul takes down a list of his medication. Louis is grateful; he'll no longer have to skip or run out of supply with them on his side. ''But promise me, you will not tell Simon and you will definitely, most importantly, not tell the boys. Please.''

 

His begging works because Louis can raise hell on him, what with being the most annoying member of the band to look after but he never begs, never asks for anything. Therefore, Paul promises him. After all, he technically work for the lad even if he and the rest of the lads don't see it that way and he loves Louis like a son just as he loves his brothers too.

 

Harry is pacing, back and forth in the living room, walking by the door, watching it like a hawk. He's trying to restrain himself from going out and fetching Louis himself. The boy was so quiet in the car ride, no spark in his eyes and he loves Louis and all but he doesn't like him sad, ever. He keeps pacing, wondering if maybe he did something wrong because that wouldn't be unusual. He knows he gets clingy sometimes, tells awful jokes that aren’t quite funny, that make Louis roll his eyes –he doesn’t see how Louis does it fondly- so perhaps he made Louis upset or something. But then again, he can't be too sure and it’s here that the whole Louis-keeping-his-thoughts-to-himself becomes a bother because Louis never says anything that upsets him, especially if it's coming from the boys. Sure they don't fight or have heated arguments but sometimes Harry would notice a frown on Louis' face when Niall ignores his bad knee and jumps around hazardously on stage or when Liam would be too bossy or Zayn too lazy but he never complains, like, ever. When there is something worth being bothered about, he just huffs and stays quiet. Louis only gets upset and shows sass when all the boys are altogether upset about something and never, ever directed at them. And that's about it, the extent to which Harry had ever seen Louis pissed. Therefore, he keeps wondering and just when he's about to drive himself crazy, he hears a click on the door.

He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees blue and just like that, he runs to him, hugs Louis unabashedly. Louis returns his hug, huddling small in Harry's waiting arms. The other boys are asleep; Harry tells him when Louis asks.

''But they did ask that I make sure their brother is okay?'' Harry says it as a question.

''I am okay.'' Louis sighs, too tired to lift his drooping eyes off the ground. He walks past Harry, taking off his shoes by the door. Harry follows him like a shadow to the bedroom.

''You sure you're alright? You took longer than a minute.'' Harry says, hovering with itchy hands dying to touch Louis in some form so he helps undress him. As Louis empties the pockets of his trousers, Harry unzips his friend's hoodie and takes it off, folding it neatly in Louis' suitcase. Yeah, they don't stay long enough in their hotel rooms to actually use the closets so why bother unpacking.

Harry's growing taller now, Louis notices fondly as he slips off his jeans, and yet he still has his baby fat. It's quite adorable.

''Yeah, just wanted to send my mom some money.'' Louis lies easily, folding up his jeans by the end of the bed.

''Oh,'' Harry says, understanding immediately, before taking the jeans and putting them in the suitcase as well. ''Is everything alright? How is Jay?''

''You know, raising four girls all alone but mostly proud of us.'' Louis shrugs. This is not a lie; all their parents are proud, most of all Liam's mom who wouldn't stop crying happy tears.

''Yeah.'' Harry says, completely understanding. They've always teased Louis about being such a mama's boy but they all find it quite endearing, especially Harry who is kind've a mama's boy himself.

They settle on the bed in their usual position. Harry tucked under Louis' arm, cuddling the smaller boy with his arms around his waist. Louis is glad he got away with it; after all, with the way he and Harry are getting closer and closer to each other, making it very possible that Louis will soon be calling him his boyfriend, then there is no way on Earth will he be telling Harry about his condition. Nope, it is totally out of the question.


	4. Chapter 4

_Consciously or not, we are all on a quest for answers, trying to learn the lessons of life. We grapple with fear and guilt. We search for meaning, love and power. We try to understand fear, loss and time._

**Elisabeth Kubler-Ross**

 

They are on their Up All Night tour and Louis was alright the first month but now, it is taking its toll. Louis had never undergone such high levels of stress before and every night, after the show is over, he has to run to the bathroom, have Paul feed him painkillers to take down the overbearing conundrums of his damaged heart.

 

Its getting the boys' attention too because sometimes he stays in the bathroom for an hour or so and though it usually takes an hour or so before they could leave the venue, an hour or so for Harry without his boyfriend is a fucking nightmare.

 

 

He tries to wait it out though, tries to be patient and be a good boyfriend. On nights when he catches Louis stumbling out of the bathroom all pale and worn, or catches Paul holding him by his bicep, helping him up the steps of the tour bus, on nights like those, he holds Louis tight. When they're up playing cards, he sits behind Louis, his legs bracketing the hips of the smaller boy, his arms around his waist, his chin on his shoulder, choosing to partner up with Louis than to play against him.

 

It's cute. They're cute and the boys keep throwing them cheeky glances. They already know that two of their band mates have become a couple and it has nothing to do with Zayn asking bluntly and Harry shrugging before snogging Louis as an answer. No, the two are quite obvious even when they're hiding it from the public. Speaking of which, when the boys asked, Louis didn't hide the truth. But he's very adamant about keeping his relationship with Harry private and Harry agrees, wanting Louis all to himself.

 

''I win.'' Liam says as he shows his cards; a full house. Louis groans; it’s the fifth time he's lost. He shifts and looks at Harry with a pout.

''You know, this is your fault.'' He tells him bluntly.

''What? How is this my fault?'' Harry asks, feigning being scandalized (What? Can't he show excitement when his boyfriend draws a good set of hands?)

''You can't control your facial expressions.''

''What?''

''It's true.'' Liam says as he reshuffles the cards.

''See?'' Louis says, waving his hand in Liam's general direction. Harry pouts.

''But you like my facial expressions.'' He mumbles. Louis sighs, but there's a fond smile on his face. Harry knows how to make him go weak in the knees, knows how to tilt his head just right for his eyes to sparkle and his lips to look more kissable.

''Come here.'' Louis says. Harry smiles, mentally fists the air with victory. He puts his head forward and lets Louis kiss his cheeks, two, three times. Then he shifts and points at the cards.

''Let's play again.'' he says. The other boys just shake their heads with knowing smiles on their faces.

After another couple of rounds, Louis winning one of them and gracing Harry with a deep kiss, he excuses himself for a wee. Harry takes over and plays on his behalf.

Louis is gone longer than usual- at least ten minutes have passed. Harry doesn't like it and he's not even ashamed at this point. He's losing anyway so he gets up.

''Hey, it's your turn.'' Zayn tries to stop him.

''I'll just go get Louis.'' he says, heading for the bathroom.

''Mate, c'mon. We're on a tour bus. Where could he possibly go?'' Niall chuckles.

But Harry knows better; he knows the boys are worried too because Louis going to the bathroom these days always means something now. They don't hear the toilet flush, they don't hear the water run. Sometimes, he takes too long, sometimes he takes too short a time. It's never what it seems.

Just when Harry opens the bathroom door to find it empty, he turns and almost trips.

''Hey, watch it you.'' Louis says gently, though he cannot reach out to help steady Harry because his hands are occupied with a tray carrying five mugs of tea.

''Where were you?'' Harry asks once he straightens up, trying to hide the skepticism in his tone.

''Went to make tea.'' Louis shrugs. Harry wants to push, wants to ask what he did before that but then Louis just made tea for five instead of one, the way he always does when he senses the boys needing it after having their throats parched and raw from a night of singing. Louis is always so considerate, always aware of their thoughts more than he is aware of his own and well, how can he not focus on his love for him above anything else?

''Love, your tea is waiting.'' Louis says sweetly and well, his blue eyes and gentle smile just tug at him, making him forget his suspicion.

 

His patience doesn't last though and that’s when they start arguing. Harry is not dumb, and he has started to notice more and more of Louis' estranged behavior and it’s not that he's furious; he's just overly concerned. Louis would come out of the bathroom ashen and sweaty, his lips colorless and his eyes dim. But then he'd crack jokes on the tour bus and be the usual mother hen, preparing them tea while they play cards or Xbox or FIFA, and acting like nothing's happened. It annoys Harry whenever he catches Paul looking at Louis sadly, annoys the hell out of him because their tour manager knows something but _he_ , his boyfriend, doesn’t know shit.

 

Louis never raises his voice, never counters back, not even when Harry has gone from pleading nicely to actually shouting. And Harry never shouts but now he does. He demands answers and Louis would sit back, tries to coax Harry into sitting and relaxing. Like now, they're sat in their tour bus. They're a week into the middle of their American leg of the tour and being away from home just makes it worse for Louis. He is sat with the boys, playing cards when he excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He takes double of his usual dose, as recommended by his doctor. The concerts are too much too stressful for his heart so he has to up on his medication. After he pockets his bottle of pills, he opens the bathroom door only to have his boyfriend waiting on the other side.

''Hey love.'' He greets him with a peck but Harry is unmoving.

''What were you doing in there?'' Harry asks. He has his broad arms folded across his broad chest. He had grown another inch over Louis and is almost towering over him.

''Just taking a piss.'' Louis lies.

''I didn't hear the toilet flush.''

''Okay.'' Louis drawls, his face not showing any sign of giving in.

''I didn't hear water running either so don't try to change what you said.''

''I didn't, I just said okay.''

''Yeah, and what the hell does that mean?'' Harry asks briskly. Louis sighs; they've been arguing a lot lately, only cuddling at night because they can no longer sleep apart, never have from the first time they shared bunks during the X-factor days, but they don't whisper sweet nothings like they always do before their eyes droop, no longer kiss each other goodnight with needy lips. The warmth between them is more bodily heat than actual affection because Louis is distant, hiding secrets behind his lids and Harry is angry for being shoved into the dark. Louis knows all this, knows how his secrets are causing all this and he hopes it's just a phase, hopes Harry will ignore it all and let his love for him outweigh his suspicion. That is the reason why, Louis never argues back, never snaps at Harry, even now when the boy is being utterly ridiculous.

''Babe, what are you pissed off about?'' Louis says gently. He's used to this, making it seem like Harry is losing it for nothing because it is nothing. He has it under control. He may not have had it under control earlier that night though, locking himself in the bathroom for nearly two hours, Paul holding him through his convalesces as he waited for the painkillers to kick in, for his chest to stop aching, for his heart to stop rapidly beating its way out of his skin. He returns to his boys a mess, a pile of tired bones and just urges them unto the bus with no questions asked. He goes to sleep for an hour or two then he wakes up and joins them for a game of cards. He knows that Harry's silence this time means he's going to bring it up and go head on with him and therefore he was prepared.

''Don't act like you don't know, babe.'' Harry spits out, the last word coming off as a sneer. He hates being angry with Louis, even if Louis is the one keeping him in the dark but he's frustrated.

''Haz…''

''You're hiding something from me and you owe me answers.'' Harry interrupts.

‘'I’ve said this before already; everything's fine, love.'' Louis shrugs.

''Oh really, you're actually lying to my face?''

Louis winces and Harry knows he hit a soft spot. The boys are now standing up and peering in from afar, leaving their cards behind. This is not the first time they've seen Harry and Louis argue since this whole Louis secrecy began but this is the first time the other two are not backing away when they've drawn attention. For Harry at least, for once he's not trying to hide it. He's setting his foot down and he doesn't care if they're a spectacle.

''Harry, you don't understand.'' Louis says, his voice resigned. He still doesn't raise his voice at Harry, not even now, after so many similar arguments.

''Well, of course I don't understand; you don't tell me shit.'' Harry hopes he doesn’t sound whiny; he really, really hopes so because he doesn’t want Louis to think he’s a petulant child, consequently treating him as one.

Louis sighs, his fingers folding on the middle of Harry's hands, still folded across his chest. His eyes are cast on them, shining like two lanterns with the flames snuffed out. Harry can see that this is killing him and therefore he doesn't understand why he's not sharing his sorrows with his boyfriend, why he's keeping something obviously so grand bottled up.

''Please don’t make this hard for me.'' Louis begs and truly that is the opposite of what Harry wants. With Louis standing before him, donned in what screams Harry, huge clothes practically falling off of him – the neck of Harry's blue jumper, stolen a month ago, nearly off one shoulder, showing the slope of his collarbone and delicate white throat and a pair of gray sweats puddling around his ankles, the least he wants is to make anything hard on Louis.

''How can you think that of me?'' Harry asks, exasperated hurt in his eyes. ''How can you think, after all this time, that I want anything to be hard on you?''

''Then likewise, Harry.'' Louis says, finally pulling away at Harry's arms. ''Please, I love you.''

Harry looks away, hates that Louis is using this on him, using the power of those three words to silence his doubts. Louis jumps on the crack. He thinks he found a way out, a way to end this quickly because he doesn't want the boys behind him to side with Harry and gang up on him. He can already feel familiar pain in his chest and he doesn't want Harry to see it blossom in his eyes or feel the shortness of his breaths.

He holds Harry's face suddenly and though it's gonna feel like dying, he kisses him, urges his lips to reciprocate. But Harry knows he just wants him to forget so though he is taken by surprise, he is suddenly frustrated that Louis would choose to manipulate Harry's affection by dodging the truth with a kiss.

He doesn't mean to, regrets it when he does it even though it was done in the heat of an angry moment. He just suddenly pushes Louis away, his large hands frustrated against the boy's chest. And Louis has always been light on his feet and he of all people knows this but he lets it happen. He watches as Louis stumbles, his feet catching at the hem of the sweats and he trips and falls on his back, a thud and a croak pulling the boys to him.

''Lou!''

''Harry, are you crazy?''

''Louis!''

The boys race to Louis, and it hits Harry like a tone of brick that he’s the last on his knees.

''Shit, Lou, am sorry…'' Harry says quickly as he slides between Louis' legs, the hallway between their bunks too narrow for him or the boys to get to his side.

But then, Louis's hand is shooting up to his chest, suddenly in pain; the fall making him too dizzy to get up, almost like he's too faint to recover, the impact suddenly causing his chest to tighten, triggering something inside. Instantly, he is clutching his chest and trying to get up on his own but he can't, his head is heavy, he is suddenly too weak. He is gasping, choking and he can see the boys upside down, but then his vision turns blurry because he's crying his panic out. There's a ringing in his ears as his tongue flaps, drying in his mouth. His ribs feel like breaking, his heart being squeezed like water from a soaked towel. He can hear Harry's voice, wrought with sheer panic as he tried to crawl and get away from them, tried to reach out for help from the only other person on the bus who knows what to do.

''Paul, I need P…'' he tried to call out, turning his head and trying to look past the limbs reaching out for him, the voices trying to help him but don't know how.

And Harry doesn't know what's happening, doesn't know what he did to cause such pain to his boyfriend. He forgets his mistake, forgets his anger, forgets the secrets Louis is yet to share and shouts at the top of his lungs.

''Paul!! Paul!!!''

 

It's not after Paul rushes in and injects Louis with something, that they know what's going on. Louis passes out and Harry literally shrieks.

‘’Paul, what’s happening?’’ Zayn asks which as much calm as he could muster. In truth, he is two seconds away from shaking apart. Paul ignores the question though and gets up to call an ambulance. Niall’s weeping, Liam’s distraught and Harry is a mess.

‘’Not now, kiddo,’’ Paul says when he's done and Zayn asks again, less calm than bfore and winces at the sight of Harry on the floor with Louis, tries to ignore Harry’s chanting, ‘baby, baby, babybabybaby,’ into Louis’ throat, while petting his face. Harry had shaken Louis like a rag doll when he’d first passed out until Paul’s words seeped into his clogged up mind that they need to get Louis to the hospital so instead, he just held on, comforting Louis for lack of anything more comprehensible to do .

They hear the sound of the sirens nearby so Paul urges the other boys to give way before he crouches down beside Harry and reaches for his elbow, arms a vice around Louis’ slacken body.

‘’Kid, you have to…’’

‘’No,’’ Harry bites out with a shake of his head. He’s got a lapful of Louis on his crossed legs, one arm around his back holding him up, his other hand petting almost aggressively.

“We’ve got a medic on the way,” Paul says grimly. He is sure Harry is in shock and that he’ll need to be treated by a paramedic for it.

“No, no, no, no, baby, no,” Harry says, ending his words in the crook of Louis’ neck, squeezing fresh tears out of his eyes, fingers tighten in Louis’ hair. “Not gonna let go. No.”

 

Harry refuses to let go of him even when the paramedics get into the bus, holding Louis so tight that Liam has to snap at him and thump him on the back of the head. It jolts Harry out of his shock a bit, enough to let Paul pry his fingers and loosen them up so the paramedics get to wheel Louis into the ambulance. Harry returns to being a mess when they roll Louis into the emergency room set, holding Louis’ wrist too hard.

‘’He needs a doctor, Harry, not you right now, please.’’ Zayn tells him. Only those dreadful words make him let go but not entirely, never entirely. His eyes follow the path of where Louis' taken until the doors swing close but even then, Harry can still feel his arms tingling with the feel of Louis' skin on his own. Ever since he confessed his love for this boy, he knew deep down that he'll never be able to let go of Louis, mind, body and soul; especially now when Louis is too helpless to hold him back the way he promised he would, not there to give him comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

_''But I, being poor, have only my dreams;_  
_I have spread my dreams under your feet;_  
_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”_

  
  **W.B. Yeats**

 

In the hospital's waiting room, in the dead of night, that's when the boys find out from Paul that Louis has a hole in his heart, permanent and untreatable, a defect since birth, an illness that he has to live with it throughout the end of his days and survive on medication to keep him around.

They take it badly of course, Harry worse than the others, especially when the doctor returns and tells them that Louis has contracted Pulmonary hypertension, caused by a dangerous spike in his blood pressure within the blood vessels that supply the lungs.

‘’It is a symptom of his congenital heart disease.’’ the doctor says solemnly. ‘’And we doctors take it very seriously.’’

‘’What caused it?’’ Liam asks quietly. ‘’Is, it like, I mean, we don’t know…’’ he cannot finish, his voice keeps on cracking. Zayn is the one who tells the doctor about slipping on his sweatpants and taking a fall, thinking maybe it was a trigger, not to mention having have performed on stage earlier in the day. The doctor sighs.

''Well, if he hadn't fallen, we wouldn't have discovered that his blood pressure was too high for someone with his case. We wouldn't have been able to treat it as we are doing right now, so please, do rest assured, we’re taking care of him.'' The doctor says. Paul makes the doctor and his staff sign a paper of discretion, knowing that Louis is famous and all. But Harry doesn’t care about any of that. He cares about what he'd just been told about Louis, about being sick and shit, he wasn't there for him. He wasn't trustworthy enough for Louis to tell him. The thought hurts like a rusted knife.

''He didn't tell me, why didn't he tell me?'' he sobs and lets Zayn hold him as he cries and cries and pulls at his hair because Louis is in the hospital, Louis did not to tell him, Louis decided to shoulder this alone and it's his fault, all his goddamn fault. He cannot stop saying those words or Louis' name really.

Harry doesn't stop crying even after they enter Louis' room, finally allowed to see him, hiccoughing and trying to keep quiet and composed. He stays back, allowing the boys to get their fill of Louis because he wants all of Louis' time after that, always wants him to himself. When the other boys part and give way, he sees Louis, all small and tiny, sitting up in a hospital gown, needles protruding the inside of his wrist, looking so, so tired. He sees his arms opening, beckoning him for a hug and he just dives for it, crying down his neck.

''I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry.'' The words escape his quivering lips. He keeps his face hidden in Louis' neck, not wanting to put pressure on his chest.

Louis uses his needles-free hand and just cards his fingers through his mess of curls. He lets Harry cry down his skin but he shakes his head.

''My fault; should've known that you of all people wouldn't take my dreams away.''

Harry pulls back at that, forcing his eyes open. Louis is so close, their foreheads almost touching, and he looks at Harry with so much love that he melts right away, tears shining in his big green eyes.

''You went through this alone, knowing the risks. How could you?'' Harry asks, hurt raw in his voice.

''I wanted to live. I wanted dreams of my own, Harry. Why can't I be allowed that?'' Louis asks, hurt just as much and Harry understands, how can he not?

''Yes but,'' Harry sniffs, sitting up on the bed so that he can be closer to Louis. He holds the boy's little hands in his, careful of the IV and tubes then continues to look at him through tearful eyes.

''I think it’s important you know that I won’t be okay without you. You should've told me, you should've let me taken care of you.''

''I can take care of myself, really. I've been doing well so far, babe.'' Louis says, desperate for Harry to understand. Harry shakes his head.

''No, you're better at taking care of us but not yourself. That's something that I'm good at and you took it from me.''

Louis suddenly feels guilty. He looks away and catches his band mates' eyes. They all agree with Harry and it's obvious in how they huddle around him and their youngest bandmate; protective, strong.

''He's right; you should've said something.'' Liam says; his voice clogged. Louis doesn't know how to look at him, looks past him instead. ''We're all over-worked but its worse with you and surely you must've known that but you said nothing. God, you should've said something, Lou.'' He repeats, agony in his voice.

''And what would you have me do, huh?'' Louis snaps, tears in his voice. ''Sit backstage during signings? Skip rehearsals, not show up to interviews?''

''No, you should've let us taken care of you.'' Liam answers back. ''I mean, is that so hard to allow us to do? Why are you always taking care of us and never allowing the favor to be returned? Why? Because you think we can't handle it?''

''Can you?'' Louis answers back immediately before he heaves a deep, quick breath. ''Because I am pretty sure you can't.''

''Enough!''

They're reigned in by Harry's vicious voice. Louis feels it more with how Harry squeezes his hands, still holding them. Slowly, almost animalistic, Harry raises his head and looks at Liam, making Louis realize that his outburst was not directed at him but at Liam.

''He is in a hospital bed with a sick heart and he can barely breath to answer back and you think arguing with him right now about his mistakes is the right move?'' he says, almost with a growl that Niall takes a step back. Zayn just eyes him and Liam carefully; he is well aware of how possessively protective Harry is of Louis, will always take his side even when Louis is at fault but for once, he might actually be right. Louis looks so pale and exhausted, like he's only keeping his eyes open because of them. Even Liam realizes his mistake as soon as Harry points them out.

''Harry, I don't mean it but…''

''Another word Payner, and I swear on my grave, I will not hesitate to fucking punch you in the gut and…''

''Hey, hey!'' Louis interrupts with a panic, not liking Harry losing his baby features and replacing it with this almost evil side of him. It’s not evil per say but Louis' seen how Harry's extent of love for him can get so out of control sometimes, whether in glares at paparazzi who go for Louis' jugular or fans who don't know their boundaries when they grope Louis' ass. He gets so mad and fierce that he's blinded and right now, his anger is directed at Liam that he can't see past friendship in his rage. But Louis reins him in as he clutches at his boyfriend's cheeks, turning his glassy eyes away from Liam.

''That is a shit thing to say, Harry.'' He chastises. ''Apologize at once. Liam is not at fault here.''

And just like that, Harry's wrath dissipates, like Louis is fresh water being poured on fire. He looks down at Louis' lap before his eyes lift up to Liam.

''Sorry,'' he mutters then looks at Louis and pecks his cheek, muttering a more hushed apology, a private one, just for Lou.

''No, my bad. I'm done arguing.'' Liam says, honest and genuine.

''I'm really sorry, I didn't mean it.'' Harry says quietly to Louis, with his head hung low, like a scolded puppy.

Louis sighs and sits back. He doesn't like his boys fighting, none of them do. It pains him to know that he caused this and it's almost like a physical ache as his hand, unaware, rubs at his chest. The boys notice right away, zooming in on his hand. Harry gulps, his eyes on Louis' face.

''Lou, baby, talk to me.'' Harry says, his voice shaking. ''Are you hurting? Is your chest in pain?''

Louis shakes his head and lowers his hand. Harry meets it halfway and captures it, holding both of Louis' hands in his again, like he cannot part with them for even a minute.

Louis looks up and sees green eyes glazed with genuine worry and above all, true love for him. He cannot fathom it, the amount of affection Harry unabashedly showers him with, especially now when he's in pain and Harry is right there, waiting patiently to catch him if he falls.

He flounders for words and comes up with the only thing that matters.

''I'm sorry I didn't tell you.'' His voice wobbles when he speaks. But Harry shakes his head. He wants Louis to open up to him, to tell him what he's feeling, to stop hurting on his own.

''Not good enough.''

Louis' breathe hitches and he's about to cry. He sees it in Harry's eyes, the rejection he has caused said boy by shunning him away. He cannot believe he denied Harry something, that he didn't give him something he wanted, even if what he wanted were his precious secrets.

''Ask anything, I'll give you, I promise.'' He says quickly. Harry shakes his head fondly.

''You.'' He says simply, placing a hand on Louis' cheek and caressing the smooth cheekbone with his thumb. ''I want you, always. I want you to let me take care of you from now on because you’re needed, okay? You’re essential to me and I won't be able to cope, I swear I won't be functional without you. I won't be able to make good on my promises if you hide things from me because you’ve got me forever, remember? You’re my other piece. We’re together until we're wrinkly, until this all ends, so don’t you dare think about leaving me out of anything, you understand?''

''I didn't mean to keep it from you, I swear, Haz.'' Louis says, holding unto Harry's wrist. ''That was the hardest thing I ever had to do, you have to believe me…'' Louis pleads, snaking a hand around Harry's neck and pulling him close, like he wants Harry to take a closer look and see the truth so ever present in his eyes.

''I believe you.'' Harry interrupts quickly, holding Louis' face with both hands now because the heart monitor is beeping unsteadily and Louis looks like he's turning a shade paler. ''I love you. I forgive you. Just, you forgive me too, yeah? I always want your kisses, in any form. I didn't mean to push you and…'' Harry is about to cry again but Louis seals his lips with his own, holding Harry's face with both hands, almost reverently. The heart monitor spikes unsteadily in the background and Louis makes a sound of breathless hurt but he continues kissing Harry.

''Hey, hey, stop it, Lou. C'mon.'' Zayn says, eyeing the heart monitor with worry and pulling on Louis' elbow. Even Harry is trying to pull away but he doesn't want to push at Louis' chest again. However, Louis is not cooperating, pushing away Zayn's hand and ignoring the protests from the other. He continues kissing his love, taking a noticeably unsteady breath as he pulls Harry's face closer.

''Lou...'' Harry manages to find Louis' shoulders and finally tugs his boyfriend away. Louis can barely breathe, his head tucked under Harry's chin as he tries to get over the ache in his chest. Harry holds him close, rubbing a hand up and down Louis' back, trying to ease him. He looks at Liam with fear, with the realization that they're gonna have to be extra careful from now on if they want to keep Louis around and waits with the rest of them as the heart monitor returns to a steady beeping.

''I'm sorry.'' Louis says unsteadily. ''I needed that.''

Harry chuckles, holds him closer, makes sure there's no fear in his voice before he speaks.

''You'll get as much as you want, so long as it's safe.''

Louis makes a disapproving sound as he continues to breathe Harry in.

''So long as you love me.'' He mutters, his eyes closed, too tired to keep them open.

''Always.'' Harry says immediately then sighs, this love though born not too long ago is already too overwhelming to contain. ''God, Lou. I love you, darling. I love you so much.” Harry kisses the top of his head, letting his lips linger as he feels Louis’s head sag further into his chest. He can't help but breathe the boy in, so afraid of losing him and not showering him with love at every given second. ''So, so much, you can't even imagine it. I love you. I'll take care of you. I promise you. Don’t tire yourself out, okay? You’re most important.''

Louis nods contentedly, taking unsteady breaths. As they watch Harry place him back on his bed to lie down, he slips back asleep again, and the beeping of his heart monitor evens out after a little bit.


	6. Chapter 6

_Being deeply loved by someone give you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage._

**Lao Tzu**

 

The boys know now and they take turns taking care of him, Harry mostly, because even in taking care of Louis, he wants it all to himself. As soon as Paul is back with Louis' medicine, he takes it from his hands and is on it immediately. He'll take the blue tablets, one of many kinds that Louis has to take, and crush the white little ones, anew addition to his growing collection and the usual faint pink ones as well as the big red ones as instructed, grind them till its powder before making a protein milkshake to slip it in for Louis to drink. He and the boys always have an extra set of Louis' meds because he needs to take a variety of them and he runs out of them quickly so with the five of them knowing, there's always five extra sets of meds ready for usage.

It makes Harry sad, knowing that Louis has to take so much to keep up with the job, to keep his body functioning. But he packs them with him anyways; contentedly watches Louis take them when its time, knowing they are going to make his boyfriend feel better, no matter how distasteful Louis finds them on his buds.

But as the tour goes on, it doesn't get easier. Louis struggles, like every breath is precious and at this point, it is. Harry doesn't know how he did not notice before or if this is just happening now with their work demand upping up, he's not sure. He sees Louis putting in exhausted effort to keep up with them, listens and notices that he sings better when he can hold unto a mic stand than running around. He notices that Louis puts his hand on his chest a lot, sometimes squeezing, sometimes just holding it in. Harry and the boys share worried glances, because even when Louis is loud and boisterous and all entertaining, they know the beads of his sweat has more to do with his heart not able to keep up than entertaining a crowd of a thousand screaming fans.

Harry knows that Louis doesn't move around on stage as much as him or Niall and at first he thought it was because Louis was naturally shy like Zayn but now he can see that its only because his body cannot cope up with his character, and its sad, truly saddens Harry to see a supernova bottled up, a galaxy of stars draped over, a beautiful bird caged from release. It saddens him when Louis tries to appease them, says he can accompany them to after parties they so like to experience, only to come home face punched into the couch, fatigue written allover the curve of his shoulders and the lines of his face.

As times passes and their travelling increases, Harry knows Louis cannot cope, or to be precise, he knows that Louis' body cannot cope so he stops going to after parties too, stops waking Louis up from his nap to play video games with them. Instead he lets him sleep, lets his head on his lap flatten the pillow on his leg and numb his thigh until the game is up and he carries him to bed. He makes sure Louis is always with someone, never alone, even when his eyes are closed. And as much as Harry finds Louis' eyes so immaculately beautiful, he'd rather see them closed and resting than straining and pushing himself over the edge.

Harry follows Louis to the bathroom when it's bad, and it's never easy. One time, a fan threw an iPhone at Louis and it hit his stomach. Louis didn’t see it and it didn’t actually hurt all that much, simply knocking his breath away and distracting Louis that he didn’t brace himself for the fireworks, the sound so loud Harry says it feels like experiencing a mini heart attack when they erupt. Well for Louis, a mini heart attack is so not pleasant. He was in so much pain that night, heart beating rapidly, trying to calm down, his breaths shallow, his chest constricting that he geot frustrated with Harry and just shoved his hands away from feeling him allover like making sure he wasn’t bleeding.

He gets frustrated with Harry easily, when Harry is uncapping the wrong bottle of pills or when he's not comforting him right. Sometimes, he'd shout at the boys when they try to sneak away into late meetings without him because they want him to sleep and his anger is never good because it stresses him out into a fit.

They stop shutting him out after one particularly bad night. Louis had caught them leaving the tour bus with Julian, their main lyricist and he was so upset by it but he didn't say anything, too shocked that he's now being side-tracked in the most essential part of their music-making career which is writing songs. When Harry found him later, Louis was on the bathroom floor, bundled up in a corner, holding his chest in like he's trying to prevent it from exploding and Harry screamed for help and muttered apologies for not being there, held him through it even if his ears felt like bleeding and his eyes stung from too much tears. Sometimes, his actions are triggers, his comforts just not enough.

But sometimes his comfort works. Sometimes, when Harry's playing cards and Louis' head is resting on his lap, too tired to play, his breaths don’t stutter or strain but rather they even out with Harry's hand massaging down his arm, or massaging his scalp or simply caressing his hair. Sometimes, when Harry would notice the pale-bluish color of Louis' fingertips, he'd kiss them; pamper them with so much love and affection until they're tinted pink again. When Harry will carry him to his bunk, he'll get in as well and keep him close, just to put his hand on the boy's chest and feel the steady rhythm of his heart. Now, he pretty much cannot sleep without doing that, without holding Louis close and hearing him breathe.

The boys talk when he's asleep, worried that Louis is getting worse, that maybe he needs new meds to cope up with their career and the stress that comes with it. God knows they get stressed out sometimes too, that they have days when they can't handle the fame and the scrutiny. They don't know how Louis does it.

The days that Harry can comfort Louis are days he feeds on, finds his strength and proves to himself that he's good enough, that he is not too young for this, that he is strong enough for Louis.

But there are days when Louis would wake up with his chest aching. Like now, after performing for three nights in a row to a sold-out crowd and getting mobbed almost on a constant basis, Harry is holding Louis close in the lower bunk, Harry's bunk, only to find himself waking up at dawn by the sounds of whimpering. Louis is folded away from him, loose from his embrace, his hands on his chest, his face scrunched up, tears rolling down and drenching the pillowcase. Harry wakes up by a distinct painful whimper, and it feels like he'd just been scorched. He knows by now the routine, which is to give Louis space, air to breathe. He stumbles out of the bunk and luckily doesn't land on his arse. He shoves the drapes away and is speaking words of comfort as his hands work under the bunk. In truth, these situations never get old and deep within his core, he is panicking, mind racing and trying to figure out where to put his hands as they come across different bottles of pills and trying to find the right medication for this sort of situation. Louis' breaths are turning shallow, his mouth open ''o'' shaped as he tries to gulp in air, fingers closing and opening, scratching across the sheets looking for something, looking for his meds.

''No, no, Louis, calm down,” Harry says quickly. “Breathe. C'mon, you can do it, just take a deep breathe and breathe and let me handle it, okay? Shit.'' He curses as he keeps coming up with the wrong bottle. Louis on the other hand is suffocating on the sheets. When Harry looks up at him, he sees Louis nearly unconscious. His eyes are rolled back to his head, mouth open, breathing only barely.

''Calm down. It’s okay. It’s alright.” He starts crying when he finally gets the right bottle out and he immediately fishes two red pills out unto his palm. He pulls Louis to him with one strong arm, even if the boy flinches violently. He reaches for the emergency water bottle, uncaps it and then finally shoves the precious pills in Louis' open mouth, then urges him to drink. It's not over, he knows it as he puts the bottle of water away and tries to ignore his regret as the expensive pills spill allover the hallway floor. He picks up Louis and cuddles him, holding him close, rocking him back and forth.

''Shhh,'' Harry says comfortingly, pulling the blanket over him because Louis is tiny and fucking freezing. Louis is relieved to hear his voice, not liking the ringing in his ears over it. “I love you. Stay calm. Listen. Okay?” Louis nods and feels immediately dizzy. ''Good. Okay, good. Um. You're alright. Do you feel alright?''

Louis shakes his head, unable to open his eyes or move really. He feels his blood heavy in his veins, his chest tight and the air stale.

''Okay, no problem. Let me handle it.'' Harry says assuredly. He kisses Louis' head several times, rubbing the back of his hands with his own soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine. Just a couple of minutes and the meds will kick in. I promise.''

Louis nods but he still cannot stop his heart from hammering. He tries to voice this to Harry but his breaths run short and Harry panics even further, whipping his head around to try and find someone awake.

''Ha…Haz, I…I'll...'' Louis tries to speak, can feel Harry's heart pounding against his ear and he wants to calm the younger boy. ''I'll…be…o…okay. Caaalm…dddow…'' but the words die with the air escaping his throat and his chest tightening like there are leather ropes slithering close around his neck.

''Liam!!!'' Harry shouts directly at the upper bunk behind him, because Louis looks like he's fainting again. He turns back to Louis closing his eyes and tries not to weep.

''Hey, hey!'' he almost shouts. ''Breathe, you hear me?” he says sternly, tears splashing. ''You do what I say, and I’m saying to breathe. Louis!''

Louis nods weakly against his chest and obeys, trying to focus. He can start to pick out the main pieces of pain, the throbbing in his lungs and the constant ache in his left pec when he tries to pull air in too deep.

Harry goes to call Liam again but he doesn't need to because Liam is there with John who's carrying the first aid kit. John is a trained paramedic that the boys have hired just for Louis (They tell everyone he's a friend so that Louis' condition doesn't reach reporters or fans and they are grateful for the man's discretion). John pops the kit open and Harry's eyes bulge when he sees John pull out a syringe. Liam holds up Louis' limp left hand and pulls up the sleeve until it's above his elbow. John works efficiently, finds Louis' vein easily from the hundreds of needle points marking the boy's skin.

It's too early to really give in to tears but when Harry sees that particular patch of Louis' skin, damaged by too many injections, he just holds Louis and lets himself go. He weeps silently, no longer trying to be brave and responsible, his tears drenching the boy's hair. He hates that his boy has been sick for so long, hates that working hard on his dreams make it even harder for him to live them and he cannot bear the thought of Louis going solo and having to handle this all on his own. He can hardly bear it now when Louis is solid in his arms, even if he is a shivering mess.

Louis visibly inflates into relaxation, his chest finally welcoming ease, his heart, no longer a rabbeting mess. John caps the sharp object and throws it in the box to get rid of it later. He peers down at Louis and Harry follows suit.

''Louis love? Can you hear me?'' Harry asks quietly.

Louis nods once, slowly, his eyes closed, his face pale, slacked and drenched with sweat.

''Okay, you can go to sleep, baby.'' Harry said, pecking Louis' hair before sniffing. ''You’re doing great now, so go right back to sleep whenever you want. I’ll still be here.''

''No,'' Louis' voice comes out in a weak exhale. ''I…want…I wanna st…stay… w-with you,'' Louis says, hating how clumsy his lips are because what he’s saying is important. He has to make Harry know he’s okay, that it's over now.

''I love you, though.'' Harry says gently, kissing his sweaty forehead for emphasis. ''So I know you should sleep. Go ahead and rest up so you can breathe better, and then we can work on your staying with me, okay? You’ll be back cuddling me in no time.''

Louis drifts off to sleep in less than a minute, too tired to try. Harry holds him for maybe five minutes, and maybe he'd like the idea of holding him longer before realizing the position can't be comfortable for Louis. So, he gives him one last kiss before he lays him down and covers him with his fluffy white blanket. He sits on his heels and waits.

''Here,''

He looks back and sees Liam holding out a cup of tea. He sees John's retreating figure and when he looks back, he sees the bags under Liam's eyes and his tired smile. He takes the mug with a muttered 'thank you.'

''You know,'' Liam says as he turns around and sits on the edge of the bunk, an inch from Louis' knee.

''What?'' Harry asks when Liam doesn't continue.

''I hate this.'' Liam says simply, looking at Louis' worn out figure, sweat glistening on his face in the light of dawn.

''Yeah.'' Harry agrees. They sit in silence until Harry finishes his tea. Liam takes his cup, washes them then goes back to sleep. Harry on the other hand, adjusts himself carefully, so that he ends up with spooning Louis. His arms are like a protective stronghold around the boy and this position gives him access to placing his big hand on Louis' chest, right above his heart. Louis shifts in his sleep and it puts a smile on Harry's face when Louis ends up loosely embracing Harry's arms to himself. Harry noses the back of Louis' neck, breaths in, and snuggles closer. He just lies there for a while, unable to bring himself to sleep. He loves the solidity of Louis against him more than he’s liked anything about anyone ever. It means Louis’ finally breathing calmly with him, peaceful and warm within Harry's folds. That’s where Louis belongs; Harry knows that for a fact, has been certain of it from their first kiss up to the first time they've said 'I love you' in a way that's more than friendship.

Harry shifts a leg between Louis' so that the smaller boy is pressed into him as closely as possible, and Harry loves it more. He keeps nosing the back of Louis' neck, littering it with little kisses that even though Louis' fast asleep, Harry feels him get more relaxed and he in turn, falls asleep.

 


	7. Chapter 7

_“Life is painful and messed up. It gets complicated at the worst of times, and sometimes you have no idea where to go or what to do. Lots of times people just let themselves get lost, dropping into a wide open, huge abyss. But that's why we have to keep trying. We have to push through all that hurts us, work past all our memories that are haunting us. Sometimes the things that hurt us are the things that make us strongest. A life without experience, in my opinion, is no life at all. And that's why I tell everyone that, even when it hurts, never stop yourself from living.”_

**Alysha Speer**

Three weeks and a half pass and finally, they're at the end of the North American Tour, the concert before last and Harry is hoping for it to end soon. Louis had an attack earlier in the day and had to skip an interview to sleep it off upon Harry’s expressed insistence. Later on, Harry found him sleeping on the couch in the make-up room. There was no blanket draped over him and his shoes were still on his feet. That tells Harry that Louis just dropped himself on the couch and slept on the spot. He must've been dead tired from the photo shoot earlier in the day and it breaks Harry's heart to see his boy unattended to.

All he could do was run to him instead of butchering whoever let this happen because Louis is not supposed to be left alone. Louis' skin is ice cold when Harry touches him so Harry goes to turn off the AC which he’s appalled to find on 15 degrees. No wonder Louis' freezing, he thought. Harry immediately turns the dial to a proper temperature then runs back to Louis. He drapes him with his coat and whatever item of clothing he can find, including their designer Caroline's cotton scarf that he found on a nearby armchair. Then, he put Louis' head on his lap to keep him close.

Louis doesn't once stir but his breath is slightly labored, tired even in his sleep. Harry knows that if he runs his fingers through his hair and massages his back, he will relax soon so he does that and listens intently to Louis' every breath, praying they even out sooner than later. Louis cannot afford another attack.

''Hey, lazy-assed Lou!'' Niall jokes in a whisper as he enters the room then chuckles to himself. Harry knows it's an innocent remark, that all the boys understand but his boyfriend is sick, skipped an interview with ''The Sun'' magazine because he was having a fit and their job is making him sicker and he just can't fucking handle it.

''Drop it, Horan!'' he snaps at Niall and he doesn't even feel an ounce of regret.

Zayn and Liam look at him with surprise from two opposite ends, claiming arm chairs upon their entrance, fiddling with their cell phones in hands. They know Harry had been stressed out lately, doing too much and not enough for Louis' sake because sometimes it's just not in his hands. But even though he can let John or Paul or them take over for him, he always chooses not to. Lately though, he'd become so snappy, taking his frustrations out on them.

''Harry, that's not very nice, mate.'' Liam tries to say because Niall is in shock and Harry is actually glaring.

''Nice is leaving my Louis alone because he is goddamn fatigued and your little fucking remark is shit.'' Harry hisses, directing his words from Liam to Niall.

''I didn't mean anything by it, Jesus.'' Niall retorts.

''It was still shit, alright? God, get it through your head, he's got a fucking hole in his heart and you think calling him a lazy ass was…?''

''Alright, I'm sorry. Stop shouting at me.'' Niall interrupts, his voice cracking a bit. He's always been soft; never one for confrontations and right now, Harry is ready to punch fists through him.

''Fuck, you don't understand shit.'' Harry mutters with a cracked voice, almost to himself as he looks away, tears pooling his vision. He knows Niall's genuinely sorry, that he truly didn't mean it, that he’s more upset about Louis being unattended to, at not being there himself to tend to him, but he's lacking of sleep and his boyfriend needs him more than he ever needed him before and it’s truly something because Louis never was a needy person, never asks for help, hell not even now when he is in most need of it and because of that, Harry found a chance to pay him back all those sleepless nights Louis chose to stay by his sad sorry ass. But, he can't cope or give him what he needs.

''Harry, we understand plenty.'' Zayn says softly. He feels sad for his two friends, sad that Louis is going through something so strenuous. Sometimes, when he's packing, he pulls out Louis' pills and reads the words taped unto Louis' medicine bottles. He can't help but wonder, when he reads what they're for, how Louis makes it through the day. So, he understands somehow that Harry is tired and frustrated that he's at the top of the world yet can't enjoy it because he feels like he's at the bottom of a mountain with Louis instead, trying to help him climb it back up but failing.

Harry is crying and trying to hide it by looking down, his eyes hidden by his hair, away from them but he knows they're looking, shooting sad, pitiful looks at him and he can't help but fit himself with the goddamn silence. No, he doesn't want to talk anymore, he'd rather look at Louis instead, look at his perfect boyfriend sleeping tiredly in his lap and see his tears fall on his caramel-colored hair than look at his three brothers. He sucks in a deep breath, letting a tear roll down his cheek and settle into the dip at the corner of Louis' pale lips.

''Harry, please don't cry.'' Zayn pleads softly but that just makes Harry cry harder.

''Harry mate, don't do this to yourself.'' Liam says. ''He won't like it when he wakes up and sees you like this, right?''

''If.'' Harry mutters through choked-up chords.

''What?'' Niall says, not liking Harry's meaning.

''If he wakes up.'' Harry says shakily. His vision blurs and he has to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand, even if it means admitting to crying.

''Don't say that, Harry. Jesus Christ.'' Niall mutters, shuddering at Harry’s implications. But Harry continues like he hadn't heard.

''It would have been better if he never auditioned,'' his voice is small, exhausted. Harry’s shaking his head, looking down at his big hands on Louis' shoulder and hair then up toward the ceiling, breathing deeply, before looking back down. They all know it’s a lie, that the timing of it would have never made it easier, but they let him go on anyway, ''And that’s such a stupid thing to say, I know it is because I can’t change it and it is what it is but. I just, I don't know if I should thank God every day that he’s at least alive, because he – he's suffering so much so what's the point? Even if he's completely loved, even if he has me, what can that possibly do for him?'' he blinks, shutting his eyes for a while before he looks at Louis as if he's asking the boy himself. ''He can't even enjoy this, enjoy all our success because it's eating at him but mostly he can't enjoy being loved by me, and that fucking sucks.'' Harry wipes his face and looks away, his voice hitching. ''It sucks and I can't cope, knowing that, every second I’m awake, or every second I dream, every moment I’m asleep, knowing that he's in pain, knowing that I can't kiss him without causing his heart to literally fucking hurt and that,” he sucks in a shaky breath, rubbing more tears from his eyes, eyelashes starting to clump and stick together, ''that fucking hurts.'' Harry raises his eyes to Niall’s to find his own blue eyes bloodshot and shining with his own, unshed sympathy, ''I-I can’t live with myself. If I’m a good person, I’d tell him to quit this job, even if it means no longer being with me, with us but I can’t. I don’t ever want to let him out of my sight and I’m so fucking guilty – especially after reading up on his condition and knowing that he…he can drop dead at any moment,'' and Harry hears Zayn gasp but he pushes on, ''It's not fair to him. It's not fucking fair because shit, I'm weak and pathetic without him. I need him, he’s ruined me for anybody else. God, I can't take it, I just want to be numb for just one day and go back to when I didn't know, to burn out this big fucking hurt that rests inside me like a lead weight. I don't want to lose him and it's selfish but I can't, I just can't.''

He doesn’t realize that he’s bent over Louis’ head, hugging it to his stomach as he cries and they let him, watch him haul Louis up to his chest so he can hug him tight, burrow his face in the dip between the boy's shoulder and neck. They let him kiss Louis awake with trembling lips and drenched cheeks, watch as his eyes light up when Louis opens his eyes, watch the latter boy's eyes fill with worry at the tears rolling down Harry's cheeks. They leave soon after because they know that Louis and Harry will enter a bubble of their own world, a bubble of confessions and whispered affections that they can't help but shy away from, let alone stand being in the same room like they're tainting pure air with their mere presence. So, they leave with unshed tears in their eyes and guilt heavy on their chests...

Harry recalls all this as he drinks his water, waiting for Liam to finish finding a certain girl in the crowd after answering her twitter question. He also recalls the way Louis sat straddled across his lap, comforted him by kissing his tears away, telling him not to worry, that he's coping (which is bullshit), that the new medicine he's taking is proving its worth (Which Harry isn't sure of yet).

He only lets Louis comfort him so that he can get ready for the concert and God, he wants it over before it even started so that Louis can get to his doctor's appointment. Before the attack he had in the morning after their multiple photo shoots, Harry had noticed Louis coughing as of late. It had started not long after the dawn bunk incident and it would've been nothing if they didn't know any better, that Louis developing a cough means it can't just be a cough. It wasn't bad at first but of course Harry noticed it, he notices everything about Louis. He asked if maybe Louis was coming down with sore throat or something and though he achingly wished Louis would be on vocal rest, he knew it wasn't possible yet.

At first, it eased him that Louis' cough wasn't so bad but then, with show after show, his cough became worse, leading up to the attack, present day.

So, they scheduled an appointment with his doctor in London, with no after parties or recordings in between, just a couple of fans for the meet and greet then a ride straight to the airport. He no longer has Pulmonary hypertension, Louis was assured and the cough could probably just be sore throat from putting too much strain on his vocal chords but Harry wasn't going to risk it, therefore, he was able to convince Louis to let him make an appointment at once. Louis couldn't deny him a thing and with the attack, Harry was surer that whatever it is, it must be something more than just a bad cough.

Liam finds the girl in the crowd and they all wave in her general direction before Louis reads the next tweet. There's a strain in his voice that Harry is sure only he catches but the cough Louis makes when Zayn answers the questions alarms all of them, their stances suddenly changing as they looked at Louis with worry. Louis didn't seem to notice, just trudging towards the side of the stage looking for a bottle of water. Harry follows him, leaving the other boys to answer the tweet.

''You alright?'' he asks, rubbing Louis' back. Their backs are to the audience so it's obvious where Harry's hand is but he doesn't care, hopes the rest of the lads are a good enough distraction.

Louis nods, swallows then drinks some more, downing large gulps of water like he's parched. Somehow, maybe because he's drinking so fast in his need to clear his sore throat, he splutters out. He pulls the bottle away from his lips and coughs wetly. Harry's immediately worried, rubbing Louis' back frantically while trying to keep him steady but then his eyes bulge when Louis caps the water bottle and gives it to him, knowing that Harry was probably thirsty as well.

''I'm alright, Haz. Just drunk too fast, don't worry.'' Louis assures him before turning around and facing the audience, obviously not having seen what Harry is looking at because if he did see, then he'll take his words back because no, he is not alright.

The water bottle is not drinkable anymore because fucking hell, there's blood in it and Harry knows where it's from. He looks up when he hears his name being called and sees Paul behind the curtains, gesturing to him like he's asking what's wrong. Harry throws the water bottle at him and waits. Paul catches it and at first, he's confused but then he sees it, sees the red mucking the water and Harry doesn't need to say anything because Paul's eyes follow Louis' form behind him, joking with the crowd and laughing, unaware that he'd just coughed out blood.


	8. Chapter 8

_If your sky is falling_   
_Just take my hand and hold it_   
_You don't have to be alone, alone yeah_   
_I won't let you go_

**James Morrison**

The night only gets worse because Harry is not focusing, well at least not focusing on anything else except Louis and Louis is coughing more and more. Halfway through, Louis coughs into a towel and his eyes bulge when he sees his own blood drenching the white cloth. He spots Harry easily because Harry's eyes don't leave him and he looks at the boy with such panic and confusion that Harry doesn't hide it when he whispers reassurances in his ear. He is quick to dispel his fear, throwing the towel away and whispering in his ear sweet nothings, almost glad for what happened earlier because it gave him a chance to be one step ahead.

''Look, its probably just sever sore throat, okay?'' Harry whispers. Louis is looking at the crowd with big-doe eyes, scared, chest heaving quite a bit and Harry sees all that, so he rubs a hand up and down Louis' back, tries to comfort him with both touch and voice. ''Lou, c'mon. Don't panic, please. We'll soon be off the stage and you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it I promise.'' He said, knows it’s a lie even to himself.

The comforting doesn't help because the concert is still ongoing and far from over, even though they are only two songs away.

''You can do this.'' Harry continues with his encouragement as he and Louis stand up from the side of the stage and over to the rest of the boys. Louis keeps his eyes on the crowd, keeps clearing his throat and shakily clutching a water bottle and his mic in the other.

''No, I can't.'' He whispers back then takes his umpteenth gulp of water before throwing the bottle to the ground then kicking it away. He almost drops his mic as he attaches it to the mic stand.

''No, you can. Listen, you can do this.'' He insists when Louis shakes his head. He watches as Louis tries to keep calm while wringing his hands. Harry's fingers can feel the sweat in his back and in the area between his neck and shoulder. He's worried sick and he doesn’t think his boyfriend is going to make it despite his words of encouragement. He wants him off stage and off stage now. But he can't do that, so instead he pockets his mic and holds Louis' shaking hand, entangling their fingers and drawing the back of Louis' hand to his chest, keeping it close.

''I promise you.'' He said when he'd finally gotten Louis' eyes on him with his gesture. ''You can do this. I'll help you, Lou. You're not alone, you've got me.''

He hopes his voice has enough conviction but really the extra effort wasn't necessary because Louis would always believe him, even if his words are half-truths.

''Okay.'' He whispered but his word was swallowed by the crowd roaring when the beat of the music started. Harry lets go of Louis' hand reluctantly, squinting at the girls in the front row going crazy over his and Louis' temporary interaction. He couldn't give a shit if they saw. No, he couldn’t really bring himself to care because from the beginning of the second song, Harry realizes that the night isn’t going end well. Louis’ face flinches every time the girls’ screams turns especially loud and he nearly misses one of his solos because he was massaging his chest yet again, not even bothering to be subtle about it anymore.

Even so, the concert was finally coming to an end with only one song left to sing. By now, the other boys had caught on to Louis' predicament and Harry is openly staring at Louis the whole time, ready to help him the second he was needed while silently praying that that wouldn’t be the case until they get off of the stage.

And it seems like his prayers have finally been answered, because the last song was done and over, only the “Thank you’s” and bows are left. He’s standing next to his boyfriend and he can’t help his anxiety anymore, not when he can feel how heavily Louis is leaning on him. Not that he minded. He’d promised Louis a million times and more that he’d be there whenever he was needed and he intends to keep that promise.

But just as they are straightening up from doing their bows, he feels Louis slacken against him, back arching against Harry's strong arm around his waist. With a shock he realized that the older boy's head had tilted back at a dangerous angle, with a touch of blood coming out of his chapped lips and that he’s fainted.

Without thinking about it he picked his boyfriend up bridal-style before he could slip from his arm and bang his head on the stadium floor or worse, snap his spine. Instantly, the screams turned even louder, along the countless “I love you’s” and the now frantic “Larry’s” being yelled at them from every corner.

Harry doesn’t care though and without waiting for the others, he leaves the stage with Louis pressed tightly against him, fearing he’d evaporate otherwise.

As soon as he’s backstage, he yells for Paul to help him. Louis would be mad at him afterwards for drawing such attention and stirring up such commotion. Louis never wants anyone to know when he’s weak, but at that moment Harry didn’t care. He’s scared and he needs to wipe the blood off Louis' lips and get him to wake up.

Some of their security guys immediately rush to his side, helping him lay Louis down on a couch. Harry kneels down next to his Louis’ head, gently caressing his face, thumbing the blood away.

‘’Baby, open your eyes. Lou, please.’’ He begs frantically.

Someone hands him a wet washcloth and he started wiping the sweat off of Louis’ head and the remnants of blood.

‘’Baby, c’mon. Baby, don’t do this to me. Baby, please, I love you. Baby,’’ he doesn’t stop whispering sweet nothings to Louis, even when his voice tremble and his lips shake against Louis’ damp cheekbone. He’s being rough and hurried with every passing second of no response but shit, he can’t control his panic, not when his boyfriend just fucking fainted! The cold water from the washcloth has the stronger effect though, and as Louis’ eyes flutter open, an almost desperate, broken “Louis!” leave Harry’s quivering lips.

Louis seemed to be disoriented for a few moments, his eyes wide and scared as he looks through the backstage hallway they’re in. There’s still the sound of hundreds of screaming girls, and it’s all muddling up his fogged up brain.

God, he looks so ashen, Harry feels immediately guilty for thinking about the concert first and not his ailing boyfriend.

''Babe, look at me. You're alright. We're backstage, now. Loubear, please, look at me.'' Harry frantically pleads, trying not to cry. Louis’ still out of focus until his gaze settles on Harry.

“Wha-“, he started, but he cuts himself off when a rough, wet cough shook his core. He turns to his side and coughs on the wet cloth he snatches from Harry until it gets soaked red and he’s breathing so, so hard.

''Fuck!'' Harry curses, tears sneaking out of his eyes. Louis looks up at him, eyes pleading for any comfort. Harry dives in, pushing the wet cloth away while he kissed every inch of Louis' face his lips can reach, not giving a single fuck about the audience of their security, muttering strings of comfort.

''It's alright, baby, it's gonna be alright. I'll take care of you now, don't you worry about a thing, baby, yeah? You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be just fine. I'm here, I'm right here. I'm loving you, I love you.''

Their team, however, do give more than just a single fuck. The commotion around them is getting chaotic by the second, burly men protecting the two boys from cameras of reporters who have been able to sneak in, but their team is like a brick wall, impenetrable.

Well, except for three lads who shove their way through as they make a breach and rush to Louis’ side, Zayn shoving someone out of the way to pet Louis’ head, while Niall and Liam situate themselves on the other side of the couch, awkwardly leaning over the backrest to fuss over the oldest band member, currently half sitting up and hidden within Harry’s embrace.

“What the hell happened, Harry?” Liam asked and four pairs of eyes settled on the curly-haired lad who’s rubbing a hand up and down Louis’ back, trying to help him breathe.

“I…I don’t know, he just suddenly blocked out and I just carried him in here and I...” He trailed of, suddenly aware of the pressing situation. It's obvious, from the wet cloth that he was handed and nothing more, that people think Louis merely fainted. Only Paul and John know the truth apart from him and the boys. He looks up at Liam, stern and scared all at the same time and clutches Louis tighter. ''We gotta get him out of here, Li, to our tour bus before traffic hits us and the fans cut off our way out. He needs a doctor, now!''

Louis looked so small and broken in Harry’s arms, looking up at Harry through shimmering eyes, and Louis never looks small or broken, at least not until the boys knew of his illness. Suddenly, there’s the sound of snapping and flashing lights that make him wince and hide his face in Harry’s neck.

“Uhm…Haz, what's…“ he started, but then Harry's turning around as a rush of movement happened. A path is made where Paul darts but then bumps into John before he could take another step. Harry’s about to say something but there is no time to say it as Paul accidentally shoves him aside with his big-sized body and carries a surprised Louis in his beefy arms, almost knocking the breath out of him, inducing another morbid cough.

‘’Hey, what the…’’ but then more flashes light up his face and he understands what Paul’s doing then so he keeps up, stays right on Paul’s tail, elbowing strangers in order to keep pace. He knows the boys and John are right behind him with their security guards on each side but he only has eyes for Louis and ears for Louis' ragged breathing which is not sounding too good.

''Lou! Louis, hang on, hang in there!''

Louis could hear Harry's voice behind Paul, could hear so many footsteps and he wants to look at him, look only at Harry but there are too many lights, too many people that he has to close his eyes.

''Hang in there, lad. We're almost there.'' He hears Paul say and he nods against his chest, to at least let him know that he's cooperating as best he can because he can't help this. He feels weak and drained, like he could maybe use a couple years of sleep.

Harry is on the verge of losing it as he clutches at Paul's shirt, using it as his sole means to keep close to Louis. There are people snatching pictures of him and he can’t tell their faces apart. He can’t tell anything anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

_“If you don't learn how to be scared, you'll never really learn how to be brave.”_

**Simon Holt**  
 

The crowd just gets worse as they approach the exit. There are no longer just reporters but fans as well, fans that must have been waiting backstage for their meet and greet and who, upon seeing the boys, have suddenly rushed forward and crowded in. Harry is being squeezed from all sides but that doesn't matter because he can see Louis' head getting bumped into, sees Paul trying to shield him, hunching him in, almost folding him in half making Louis look so tiny, almost completely invisible to Harry and Harry is so, so scared.

By some miracle, they make it out the door but suddenly the loud roar of screams outside hit Louis like a ton of bricks, slamming into every inch of his body, breaking his little cocoon of thoughts.

He tries to imagine being in Harry's warm arms as soon as he’s led out that door but obviously now, that was far from possible. The noise claws at his skin, crawls up his spine and pinches at his neck. He feels exposed, lost. His body’s turned stiff, eyes opening wide like those of a lost puppy. He feels so stunned when he catches sight of where he is, unable to move any part of his body apart from the tiny little up and downs of his chest, taking in more and more ragged breaths but no one caught onto that because all they want is his undivided attention.

The crowd is even bigger than backstage. Apparently news of his fainting has travelled fast and every news outlet wants a scoop on the story. Louis could feel the flashes of camera even when he buries his face in Paul’s chest and closes his eyes again to try and block it out and yet it isn't helping. The tightness in his throat becomes almost unbearable, and his neck is damp with sweat. His head is pounding with the noise, a headache creeping up on him but so much worse than.

He can hear them, the fans screaming his name, coaxing him to tell them what's wrong, following where Paul is carrying him. Paul, he remembers that he is being carried by Paul and oh dear, how embarrassing for the crowd to see his nineteen-year old self being led this way like a fucking baby.

Paul can feel his shivers and in a fleeting moment, he looks down, letting the other security guards in front of him handle the whole pushing people back.

"Listen Louis, this is pretty massive. Just- try to count to 20 yeah? 20 and we'll be there at the bus and it'll all be over. You can do this, bud."

And for a moment he thinks he can. For a short, fleeting moment Louis honestly believes that he can be brave and tolerate this. But he can feel iron in the back of his throat as he’s pushed suddenly, making him choke and curl further into Paul's chest, causing him to breath in the suffocating, humid air. He knows that this wouldn't go down as smoothly as it had all the other times. This is big, huge.

So, he tries to do as Paul asks. He really does but he barely reached twenty before he’s lost count so he tries to concentrate on the pain of his nails digging into the bone of his elbows as he hugs himself in way of protection. His mouth is stripped with moisture, lips sealed shut to contain the blood and distressed set of whimpers that desperately want to be released. The crowd around him roars and that leaves him wanting to be swallowed up by the ground, away from the judgmental faces and disappointed eyes, looking at him like the biggest weakling in the world.

It is getting too much and he needs Harry right this minute so he opens his eyes and tries to peer over Paul's shoulder and what a mistake that is. He looks up to take in the situation instead and it hits him allover again; the hundreds of people staring at him like hawks, stripping him bare of the little self reassurance he has left; hands touching him, snatching his sense of security and clawing at him from all available angles, swarming him in shivers as each grabby hand tear at his clothes and essence and very being.

Harry isn't doing well either. He is guilty, sure, for not giving what these people want. He knows they've been waiting so long for an autograph, a kiss on the cheek or even a simple smile but can't they see what's going on? Can't they see Louis in Paul's arms? His ashen face, his shallow breaths? No, Louis has to come first and so he ignores them. And it would have been fine if just his and the names of the boys behind him were the only names being chanted but even Louis' and for goodness' sake, are they blind to his predicament?

Harry's thoughts wildly plague his brain at a frantic, uncontrollable speed.

"Harry! Over here Harry!"

''Just a photo, Niall! Please, I adore you!''

"Louis, I love you!"

‘’Louis, look here.’’ Harry hears that and is wrought with fury as he sees a man with a camera grab one of Louis' vans and actually pulls it off.  
"Hey, get off of him!" Harry seethes but his voice is swallowed by the mass.  
"Harry, please just a quick picture!"  
Voices overlap and infuse into one giant, angry wave of racquet that threatens to push Harry over the edge. He didn't want to shout at anybody, doesn't want to get angry at anyone but shit, they are being unreasonable.

Louis is visibly shaking now, breath short and panicked and heart palpitations frequent. The angry flood of heat is smothering his body, making his skin clammy. His bones are trembling as he is forced to duck his head lower, almost swaddling inside his T, away from prying hands. He cannot see Harry, cannot see past Paul. He can't even see the boys so he squeezes his eyes shut and swallows the blood threatening to cough out, desperate for this to end, to be safe and warm and wrapped up in Harry's arms and smell. He wants so desperately to disappear. He repeats the mantra of 'I'm not here', 'this isn't happening' and 'Harry' in his head until he gathers up the courage to open his eyes and set his head a bit straighter against Paul's firm chest.

He wishes he didn’t because a hand, meant to touch his hair and get a feel for it, shoves it instead when pushed in turn, causing Louis' head to bounce on Paul's shoulder. Louis whimpers as Paul shouts something fierce but it doesn't catch his ears as he shakes his head frantically, clawing desperately at his guard's arm because "no please, I can't do this" and it is all too much and he isn't going to make it and it is all his fault and he can't fucking breathe!

"I'm sorry Louis, not long now. You're doing grea- woah back off!" Paul belts angry demands towards the paparazzi that all seem desperate to take a picture of a distressed Louis Tomlinson. The shouts only make Louis cringe, and he manages to squeak out an apprehensive mewl that only seems to make the crowd get crazier. He can hear Harry now, shouting pleas, begging the crowd to back off but the noises are making his whole face scrunch up, eyebrows furrowing and bottom lip quivering as he can't seem to get over the horrible feelings that are plaguing his whole being. He’s being shoved, pushed, prodded and pulled as he tries desperately not to vomit, not to let his heart rabbit a hole out of his chest. He burrows deeper into Paul’s chest, desperate to remain in the safety of Paul's arms till reaching the end of the pathway, afraid of getting plucked or torn away by the masses. His heart is racing like a bullet train, his body faint due to his shortness of breath. His hair is ruthlessly tugged, collarbones clawed at as people desperately try to tug away his restrictive arms in order to clutch onto whatever part of Louis they can reach. Frustrated tears slip from his eyes, small sobs emitting from his sore, dry throat as his heart continues to achingly beat like a dog hound inside his chest. Only when a particular hand with too-long nails scrape across the side of his neck does the world suddenly tilt badly because no matter how hard he tries to fight it, he just can't breathe.

He can’t breathe.

He can't breathe…

Harry stumbles behind Paul, tripping over his clumsy feet as the panic he feels for Louis enlarges. His own legs are trembling and he can see that, but he can't feel it. It's all numb and frantic inside his head, his mind a mesh of what's happening and LouisLouisLouis. It like there's a brand of fire around his wrists, itching to hug his boy, fire making his blood burn as it rushes through his body and pounds thud, thud, thud in his heart. His eyes catch on the path before them as they make a slower than needed progress to their bus, the crowd slowing them down.

He can see his boy getting hurt and though he's also being clawed at and fought for, he tries to keep up. He’s only a step behind and yet it feels like he’s a whole mountain away. But he has to follow Louis, he has to be with him, there has been some blood and he can't leave him alone. He just can't. Some of his desperation must show on his face. His own chest feels too tight, eyes trying to remain as dry as possible, trying to remain focused and wide as he gazes at what he can see of Louis, his body frozen in panic. He doesn't even know how he's moving if only because the distance between him and Louis is as suffocating as the crowd and he has to keep reducing it or else he'll roll up into a corner and die.

Having him in his sight, as minimal and unsteady as it is, has to suffice but he's trembling, his blood like lava in his veins and vision too bright and too dark, both at the same time. His hands are shaking and his boy is probably unconscious, probably in immense pain.

His wide eyes follow each and every step Paul takes as they advance closer and closer to the bus. He wants to know everything that's happening to Louis, even though the knowledge of exactly how much Louis is hurting with the crowd around them closing in is like a hot needle in his brain.

Before he has the chance to belt out more pleas, suddenly hands are everywhere, like tidal waves pushing him back. But that's the moment the world becomes mute, that's when the world stands still because there's Louis head, no longer on Paul's shoulder but fallen, tilted all the way back, almost at ninety degrees from his neck. He can see his purple lips and his closed eyes, his hollow cheekbones and his sweat beading out from underneath his hanging fringe. But most of all, he can see the tears, falling against gravity and it's like the rug being pulled from underneath his feet. With one harsh tug against his sleeve and with that scene unfolding before him, Harry Styles does what he thought he'd never do in public. He loses it.

''Back. The. Fuck. Off!!!!!!!!!'' he thunders as he elbows the pap next to him, hitting him hard against his chest like a deranged bull that the man actually stumbles and falls on his behind, his camera cluttering on the ground.

But Harry doesn't care even though the way his voice bellowed and cut the air has turned the crowd silent. Small gasps could be heard throughout the mob of people as they finally let loose a bit and let Harry pass, afraid that he fight punch or kick or turn into any other form of violent. Harry pushes his way through, ignoring the cameras snapping photos of his livid face that suddenly melts into outright torture when he finally rounds on Paul. Louis' arm was loose and dangling just like his head, completely out of it and Paul’s desperately trying to adjust him back into place, almost looking like he wished he had an extra pair of hands to tilt Louis' head back up on his shoulder.

"Louis! Lou? C'mon, lad, look at me. Can you hear me? Louis, please don't do this..." Paul frantically tries to grab Louis' attention, stop him from being so still but the more he tried, the more Harry panics. He immediately pulls Louis’ upper body up and to his chest so he’s now being held by both himself and Paul.

''Lou!'' Harry takes in the state of Louis before adjusting his arm then immediately tilting Louis' head forward. Louis is not responding to his voice. He’s completely slacked and unconscious, looking as white as a ghost, skin burning against Harry's touch, red scratch marks visible across his neck, cheek and collarbone. Harry makes a noise similar to that of a strangled animal as Louis' name is wretched from his voice.

''Louis. Oh God.'' With no response, Harry immediately takes Louis into his arms, taking a few frantic steps back. Hefty hands clutch at Harry and drag him and Louis away, taking up the last few steps towards the bus with no one in stopping them this time.

Holding Louis is the only thing that stops him from doing something that seems entirely reasonable like throw himself into traffic or let the crowd of paparazzi stampede him till he's as flat as the ground, because honestly, that would definitely hurt less than this. The rest of the boys pile up behind him in tour bus, leaving behind them an arena in utter chaos.

Harry wishes he could spare a last glance at the crying, hysterical fans, running behind the bus, some of them banging on the windows, but he thinks he can't do that, not when Louis needs him more. All he can think is, ''I am never doing this again. Not without holding Louis' hand.'' But even that thought is just as brief as its passing.


	10. Chapter 10

_“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”_

**F. Scott Fitzgerald**

 

''Lou, baby, Lou,'' Harry continues to call unto his unconscious boyfriend, not stopping even after he lays him down on the couch in the main lounge of the bus. _This cannot be happening;_ he keeps thinking, with tears in his eyes and tears in his voice. He can't lose Louis this way, not now, not like this.

''Louis, please,'' he begs quietly, lips brushing Louis’ sweaty forehead, caressing Louis' face even though tears are sliding across his hand.

''Please, wake up. Please, darling, it's Harry. You have to wake up. Oh God, no.'' He pleads as he kisses Louis' unresponsive purple lips then his cheeks and forehead and all over his face, muttering desperate words and showering Louis' skin with tears full of love that seems so endless. It feels like an out of body experience, feels so much like the pulls and jerks of a nightmare except it never hurts this much in them, his subconscious is kinder than reality apparently.

Louis' hand twitches but before Harry could notice, a hand is laid on his shoulder. He flinches, grasping Louis' head tight against his chest. He is ready for bloody murder.

''Fuck off!!!'' he screeches. But it isn't a pap or a stranger, it’s simply John. The paramedic flinches a bit but then he sees Louis trying to open his eyes. He knows he has a job to do and that he must tend to it at once.

''Harry, let me do my job, okay? Just…''

But as soon as Harry's eyes land on John, he softens a great amount. The man's voice brings him back down from his cloud of wrath and soon he’s nodding, tears flying everywhere as he slides across the floor he’s kneeling on and gives Johns some space.

''Help him, please help him!'' Harry interrupts, pulling John by the back of his collar towards Louis. He remains by Louis' side, one arm around his shoulders when a small hand shoots out and grasps a handful of his shirt. The boys, who were standing behind Harry, knees shaking against each other, frightened with worry for their band mate, gasp at the sight.

''Haz…'' Louis called out weakly, eyes half-lidded, lips barely letting out a whisper. Harry almost chokes as he holds Louis' hand against his chest, tears turning into sweet joy.

''Lou baby!'' he cried, laying Louis back down so he can bend and shower Louis' head with kisses, ignoring John who was trying to work alongside him despite Harry's inability to keep still because Harry cannot keep still, not when his baby is calling his name.

''Oh God, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you, Lou. I love you so much. Stay with me, yeah? Don't go anywhere, I love you. I love you.'' Harry muttered hurriedly amidst his persistent kisses, words rushing past his emotions.

''What happened?'' Louis muttered in a shallow breath as he flattened his hand against Harry's chest. His eyes were just about to close fully with Harry about to speak to keep him awake, when he hears John curse.

''Shit.''

Harry and the boys behind him, as well as Paul who’s holding out John's first aid kit for him, all look at the brown haired thirty-year-old, looking with furrowed brows at a thermometer. By now, Louis' shirt was ripped open, and from the spectrophotometer hanging around John's neck, Harry is sure that John has just had a listen to at Louis' heart. His mind races with horrific conclusions as he waits on John.

''What's wrong?'' Paul asks, his tone so fatherly worried.

''His temperature is 38 and rising.'' John says methodically, his eyes moving from the thermometer to Paul. ''And his pulse is not normal. I’ve checked twice, Paul. This is bad; we need to get him to a hospital and…''

John is interrupted by a hacking cough from Louis. Harry holds him through it, placating him, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, breathing like he's in pain too. Louis calms but he’s visibly shaking again, almost like he has chills. John holds out the small metallic round piece of his device as he slides closer to Louis, pointing at Louis' chest.

''Harry, help him sit up. I need to check something. Okay?''

Harry nods and since Louis is completely helpless, it’s easy getting him to sit up but Louis whimpers, like there’s fire in his joints and muscles. Harry is quick to comfort him.

''Its okay, it's alright. Just for a second, love. I promise.''

''It hurts.'' Louis moans as he feels a tightening in his chest.

''I know, baby.'' Harry says, trying to keep the agony off his voice, his lips moving against Louis' hair. ''But John won't take long. He's just helping you. He won't hurt you, love, I promise.'' Harry then looks at John with a mixture of warning and pleading.

''Okay, Louis.'' John says, his voice trying to mask his intimidation of Harry. ''I need you to take a deep breath for me, alright? On the count of three.''

Louis coughs again before he could inhale a full breath and they all hold theirs, like they’re suffocating with him. Niall is visibly crying, Zayn's lips are trembling, trying to be calm and Liam's face is pale with fear for his friend's life. Harry doesn't think he could shed more tears but he is.

''Shh, shh, deep breaths, Louis. C'mon, love.'' Harry tries to encourage, finding no other choice. Louis nods weakly against his chest.

''Okay, Lou.'' John says when Louis' coughs turns to ragged breaths. ''You ready?''

Louis nods vigorously, wanting to get this over with. John counts down and Louis inhales as best as he can, curling against Harry's tight hold as he feels the cold metal object against his chest. His exhale is painfully shallow.

''One more, Louis.'' John said gently, placing the object on a different place across Louis' chest. Harry is hurt for his boy as Louis shakes his head as way of indicating that no, he can't do it again.

''You did so good, baby. You can do it again. C'mon love, for me.'' Harry coaxes him gently. Louis, his eyes closed this whole time, simply nods against Harry's chest, whimpering. John counts again and Louis breathes in, painfully holding his breath then exhales into a heaving mess, sending him into a morbid coughing fit. There’s blood all over Harry's shirt after that one. It’s getting too much.

''John, please, no more.'' Harry begs wretchedly but when he looks up, John is moving, shuffling behind him. When he looks back, he sees the man lift off Louis' drenched shirt, placing the cold ear piece against Louis' back, making the boy shiver violently.

''I'm sorry, but please, just one more time. I have to confirm this.'' John says, obviously hating his job right now but knowing he has to do it. ''Okay? One more time and he can lie down, I promise you.''

Harry aches for Louis, who’s shaking his head and sobbing, muttering a string of unintelligible words.

''Enough. Harry. Please.'' Are the words they catch and Harry aches more for him but he knows what must be done.

''I got you, babe.'' He whispers to his boyfriend, closing his eyes against Louis' forehead, hurt for what he's about to do. ''I promise you; it will all be over soon, all done sooner than you think.'' He sniffs. Louis opens his eyes here and Harry is suddenly drowning in blue. No; Cloudless skies, lagoon waters, cerulean sea glass, summer delphiniums, Bombay Sapphire at dusk…he’s blinding, tiny little thing, that Harry wonders how this could all possibly be happening to him.

''I love you.'' He whispers, looking at Louis with steady, deeply-in-love green eyes. Louis whimpers slightly, a tear rolling down his cheek, joining the many that has already fallen, because it’s obvious to him that Harry is going to do something he's not going to like. ''Shh, don't cry, love. Shh.'' Harry coos as he holds Louis closer, hand sliding from his hair to his cheek. The tentative move makes Louis close his eyes. Harry took this as his chance. He takes a deep breath, tilts Louis' face up and kisses him. He ignores the taste of blood on his lips, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Louis is suddenly crying too hard to appreciate the gesture, lips trembling against Harry's gentle ones. John catches on quick unlike the boys who are shocked by Harry's untimely gesture.

‘’Harry, what are…’’ Liam asks but Harry ignores his words because when he coaxes Louis' mouth open, Louis has no choice but to breathe in, certain that this kiss would be the death of him. John, ever quick on his wits, takes his chance and presses the metallic object against Louis' back. Louis makes a strangled noise, shaking so hard, trying to fight Harry off but his attempt is so feeble, consuming his last shred of energy left. By the time John sits back on his hunches and Harry pulls away, Louis’s passed out again, sending Harry into a fit as his boyfriend slacks against his arms.

''Lou? Louis!!'' he shakes the petite frame of his boyfriend as he lays him back down, aghast at the consequences of his actions but Louis doesn't wake up and though the term 'kissed his breath away' could've been applied, it is not so pleasing at all when this is the result he gets. Harry lets out a particularly loud sob then whines high in his throat as Louis remains unresponsive. It gets worse when after a few seconds of hoping that maybe the comfort of the couch would bring him back, John presses two fingers against Louis’ neck.

''What? No, what're you doing?'' he shouts as he shoves John away then sits on the edge of the couch, getting all in Louis’ face. ''He's not…Don't tell me he's d…Lou!'' Harry chokes on his words before a distressed wail shakes out of his core as his senses hardwire into raw panic, fingers vicious on Louis’ shoulders.

''Harry, calm down. He's alright, he just fainted. I was just checking. He's alright. Please, sit back, will you?'' John is quick to confirm but Harry is too gone, too tired, too frazzled. Liam has to intervene, done with seeing Harry so whiplashed and shaken up. He gets on his knees in front of Harry where the lad’s pulling at his hair in dire desperation for something to do, fights against Harry's resisting arms as he coaxes him for a comforting hug until finally the boy gives up and sobs out against his chest, with only the name ''Lou'' on his lips. It is obvious that Harry has been horrified at what he has done, clear in his wails and trembling frame. Liam focuses on comforting him but along with Niall and Zayn, he looks at Louis' state, unconscious on the couch and wonders how on earth they're going to make it like this.

 

It takes a while for Liam to realize that the whole experience they’ve been through has traumatized them and perhaps it’s the reason why they welcome the silence that falls upon them like an old friend. It is only another half an hour and soon they'll reach the nearest hospital. It’s not exactly great news. Fifteen minutes into the ride and Louis is already having night sweats, chills rising up and down his skin. Paul bundles him up in blankets, brings in as much wash cloths as needed and packs ice-cubes to get his temperature to drop. The thermometer has peaked at 39 degrees, much to John's dismay.

Louis doesn't wake up again since the kiss, at least not properly, slipping in and out like in a daze, walking the thin line between being awake and asleep. His consciousness comes and goes, like he’s delirious and John says that's the fever setting in.

Harry doesn't remain long in Liam's arms at the thought of Louis getting worse. No, he chooses to stay on the floor. He replaced the cushion on the couch with his pillow, somehow hoping that his smell would do Louis some good, seep into his unconscious state that Harry is there with him. He has one arm folded by Louis' head so he can rest his head on his palm, his elbow on the couch and the other between Louis’ hands. Louis is out cold; his body had curled into a fetal position against the chills that are racking his core and yet, he’s grasping Harry's hand like a lifeline. Harry knows that Louis is doing this unaware, probably just needing something to hold unto. Louis would probably grasp handfuls of the blankets draped over him if Harry wasn't near him and yet the thought of Louis grasping his hand at such a moment in time, makes him want to stab his heart out at the thought of being needed so badly and not being able to offer enough, to give enough of himself to take all of Louis' pains away.

And so, Harry let his hand be held, holding back just as strongly in return. His face rests close to Louis', his lips grazing Louis’ forehead and temple in between the minutes, singing quietly, muttering sweet nothings, or simply just breathing him in. It somehow comforts him that his world stops when Louis does.

The boys keep a watchful eye. To Zayn, the love he can see before him makes him ache on Harry's behalf. It must be devastating, to have the love of your life living in constant pain, almost all the time, every minute of every day. It must be tiring, exhausting and yet, here Harry is, ever so patient and caring, present and not cowering away. It's not the first time he's seen Harry like this, hovering protectively, hand glued to Louis' like a limpet. Ever since they found out about Louis' illness, Harry has become more protective than he ever was before and that's a lot to say because that was Louis' forte, what with him being the eldest and all. It's the reason why Niall always runs to Louis when he’s hungry or when Liam feels out of place and needs to live a little or when he himself feels reclusive and needs an in depth chat. To actually see it so visibly from Harry, for a moment Zayn imagines Harry curling up around the other boy and fighting off the fever raking Louis' body with a stick just so Louis can get some rest.

Even Liam cannot be totally blind to this deep amount of affection being portrayed before him. He has always thought that Louis had always been the more affectionate one of the two and that Harry merely basked in Louis' attention, thriving on it and acting accordingly. But when their relationship has molded further and upgraded from their friendship, he noticed the shift before his band mates even confirmed it. He noticed that when Louis left a room, Harry followed, when Louis simply walked up and down a hall, Harry's eyes moved back and forth, following his boyfriend's movements. Hell, when Louis so much as shifted in his seat, Harry adjusted accordingly. It became even more noticeable to him after they confirmed their relationship, how Harry not only preens under Louis' attention but would do anything to have the attention returned. He compliments Louis daily and that is just the first thing Liam can come up with. However, Louis has always been one tough little cookie, always strong and formidable, up for a prank in the dead of night, up for a laugh amidst a concert, up for anything except being fused over. For a while, it remained that way; Louis the mother hen and Harry his little angel.

But then came that night on the tour bus and Louis' illness was like a blow between the knees, only straight to the heart. To see his friend turning into this heap of unrelenting sickness, to see his boisterous laugh turn into sobs and cries…Liam cannot fathom the words. For one, he'd never seen Louis cry and two; he never thought it would be this bad.

But here they are, and as he runs his fingers through his hair, he wonders what can he do to make this end, what possible comfort can he offer to make that look of torture on Louis' face go away and that glazed-over stare in Harry's eyes melt into oblivion.

Niall watches as well. Even though he is usually grumpy when he can't sleep, for once, he isn't complaining. He can see how Louis is in a far worse condition than he is and how Harry is just the same. He can hear Harry sing another song, a song of theirs this time, 'moments' he thinks from the few words he catches but then when Harry reaches Louis' verse, he stops, his voice cutting off with a quiet, choked gasp. Niall can guess why; even he cannot find the strength to say those words knowing they are Louis', knowing those lyrics belong to his angelic voice and only his. Harry places little kisses on Louis' skin, lips never detaching, ever so gentle as he mutters sweet apologies and then just breathes him in for a while. Niall couldn't shy away from such a scene. Sure, he’d fake being annoyed at times, gag and make choking noises whenever he sees the two lads so much as share a wink or a cheeky grin, but in truth, he’s at awe of what he’s seeing, amazed by the depth of it. He'd rather tease and laugh, make dirty comments than be serious because if asked to describe what he’s seeing, he'd be rendered speechless.

Like Liam, and Zayn surely, he'd witnessed so many lovey-dovey going on between Harry and Louis, but the subtle ones are always the ones that pull at his heartstrings, making him wish for something similar for himself one day.

This is the moment that he notices Louis' feet. There's only one shoe on, the other foot is bare. This is not unusual for Louis, the whole not wearing socks and well, he could think about the missing shoe later because for now, Louis' feet were not under the warmth of the blankets and surely, that just can’t be. Niall's brows furrow in concern so he pulls off his jeans jacket and drapes it over Louis' feet. He sits back before catching a brief glimpse of Harry's eyes, blank and confused, perhaps even a little bit insane before turning back to Louis, as if Niall were a mere shadow that had disturbed his peace. Niall doesn't mind; he doesn't want to disturb Harry's thoughts anyways.

 

It is after a long, agonizing wait that they finally arrive at the hospital amidst unrelenting traffic. Harry has fallen asleep on the floor, head resting in the crook of his elbow but as soon as Liam tries to pry him an inch away from Louis, the boy flinches and curls around Louis, eyes wide and unfocused, instantly distraught as he looks over his shoulder with a frown.

''Haz, c'mon.'' Liam starts. ''We're at the hospital. He needs help.''

It takes a second for Liam's words to get through Harry’s frazzled brain but then he instantly snaps out of it by a voice he holds so dear.

“Hazza,” Louis mumbles, struggling to open his eyes as his consciousness returns briefly. Everyone's aware that it will go soon as his eyes are already half lidded. Harry’s eyes snap to him though and he lets out a weak sob when Louis actually tries to get up on his own, no matter how feeble the attempt is. Harry won't let him, lifting Louis up instead and cuddling him into his chest, clearly too overwhelmed to speak.

''Let me go.'' Louis mutters in a weak whisper. Harry instantly shakes his head, refusing to move even as John slides into Liam's place behind him. Harry remains hovering over Louis, leaning him against his upper half as fresh tears slide down his face, dripping onto Louis' face.

‘’No,’’ Harry mutters, voice thick, looking like a pouting, petulant child. ‘’I don’t want to.’’

''Harry, you have to let him go. Please, you have to let the professionals help him, lad.'' John begs. Harry is not stupid; he knows he has to do this. It just hurts hearing Louis say that even if it isn't meant to amount to anything. He knows that Louis needs to breath and that he just isn't helping. And he wants to help. Harry just wants to help Louis. It is easier to move his limbs after settling with that thought.

''I love you.'' He croaks and then reluctantly, with a sob and a kiss, he lets go.


	11. Chapter 11

_“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”_

**Pablo Neruda**

Three weeks ago

‘’Loueh!!!!!!!!’’

Louis has but a split second to look up from his phone before Harry hurls himself towards him, landing with an uff as he topples on top of Louis.

‘’Geez love!’’ Louis groans as Harry slides down till his head is cushioned on Louis’ stomach, giggling and face flushed. He’s drunk. ‘’Warn a lad, will you? You big baby.’’

‘’Did you hear? Did you hear? Did you hear?’’ Harry says excitedly, moving his feet back and forth in the air, his hands on Louis’ hips rocking him, shaking the boy enthusiastically.

‘’Calm down!’’ Louis says with a fond grin as he sets his phone aside. They’re in the tour bus, Louis resting up while the lads lounge in the hotel restaurant. He’s a bit surprised that Harry’s here since he’s usually busy exploring around, visiting new places he hasn’t seen before.

‘’We’re playing MSG, Lou!’’ Harry announces before he throws his arms around Louis’ waist, head butting with his stomach. ‘’MSG, MSG, MSG!!!!!!!’’

‘’Don’t shout!’’ Louis tries to shush him but he’s laughing too, because wait.’’ MSG!!!? That’s, Oh My God!’’

‘’I know, right!???”

It takes a while for them to calm down, or for Harry to calm down, since he’s a little wasted and overly excited and when combining both, he gets all mushy and cuddly. Louis just sits back and mirrors his excitement.

‘’Wow, that’s unbelievable.’’ He says with a look of awe in his face.

‘’I know, it’s not sinking in yet either.’’ Harry tells him breathlessly. He’s looking up at Louis, cheek mushed against Louis’ stomach, arms loose next to each hip. Louis has to slide down a bit so that Harry doesn’t strain his neck.

‘’Niall must be over the moon.’’ Louis comments.

‘’He’s bar hopping right now, announcing it to every stranger out there.’’ Harry chuckles. MSG has been Niall’s dream for forever so it’s no wonder he’s more excited than they are.

‘’Geez, he’s not even legal in this country yet.’’ Louis tsks.

‘’Oh c’mon, Lou, let the lad live a little.’’ Harry tells him, pressing his head into Louis’ stomach. Louis sighs, then just looks at Harry with a content smile, fingers woven into his curls. Looking at Harry like this makes him feel warm and it’s just nice having someone who could share his highs and ups with him in this amazing roller coaster of a dream.

‘’Yeah,’’ Louis says, still maintaining his smile. Harry knows that look and yet he still blushes every time Louis’ attention zooms in and focuses solely on him.

‘’Whatche looking at?’’ he asks with a smirk.

‘’You.’’ Louis shrugs as he massages Harry’s scalp. ‘’Just you.’’

‘’Just me?’’

‘’Yup.’’

‘’What’s there to look at?’’

‘’Are you fetching for compliments, Styles?’’ Louis asks with a raised brow. Harry dimples.

‘’Maybe.’’ He shrugs.

‘’Hmm.’’

They talk all night. Harry tries not to ask too much about Louis’ health, knows that it bothers Louis to talk about it, dampens his mood. When they went to Universal Studios a week ago, John told Louis he wasn’t allowed to go on the big roller coaster rides because his heart cannot afford that kind of adrenaline rush. Harry knows that deep inside, it frustrated him and yet Louis just smiled and waved at the boys while they went up in the air. Harry didn’t know how he could be happy when Louis wasn’t. He’d gone out with Louis shopping that day, buying him loads of striped shirts, but it felt like compensation for something he has no control over. Louis let him be and regardless of how the day had started, it was nice to see a genuine smile on Louis’ face at the end of it when Harry bought him a basket of cupcakes. It probably says a lot how Harry feels quite accomplished when Louis smiles at him for the little things he does more than the grand gestures.

Louis lets his phone buzz as he listens to Harry ramble, ignoring his twitter notifications and mentions as Harry dozes, eye lashes fluttering, before straining open. To him, he’s got Louis’ attention right now and he likes it that way, likes having Louis’ entire focus simply on him and no one else’s. He never wants to get up, likes the feel of Louis’ fingers in his hair. He looks up and sees the shadows from the bus window dragging over Louis’ form, putting emphasis on his sharp bone structure, the line of his jaw, his sunken in cheeks and the bags under his eyes. He’s been more reserved and tired lately but always with energy for the crowds and his boys. When he needs rest, he slips away quietly so as not to worry them and Harry doesn’t like that, but he likes seeing him soft like this and not aching, a good kind of tired. Harry wishes all his days were like this, with no complications, no worries. It’s not possible to ask that, he knows and therefore he’s grateful he gets days like these when Louis is not in pain and is happy and cuddly and accommodating to Harry. He dimples when Louis presses a thumb against his cheek and sees a matching smile, first in Louis’ eyes then his lips. He is still beautiful; even after two years since they first met in the toilets, he’s still without a doubt the most beautiful thing Harry’s ever seen and will ever see and even now, in the dead of night, he takes his breath away. Being this close, he’s intoxicating and Harry wants to lean in and kiss him. He also doesn’t want to get up so he presses a kiss to three of his fingers then reaches up and presses them against Louis’ lips. He feels Louis’ smile when Louis kisses his fingers back then pecks each finger before holding his hand to chest.

‘’Love you,’’ he says and Harry can’t ever tire of hearing that. Their eyes meet and he doesn’t understand how the jolt in his chest is still just a strong now as it was the first time when he looked into Louis’ eyes and heard those words. Harry feels it zip through him like an electric shock, hotly curling from his neck to the bottom of his spine and back up again. His heart does summersaults at the fact that even after two years, his reaction at hearing those words is still the same and the time that has passed and the turbulence of their career hasn’t changed how Louis still makes him feel.

‘’You mean everything to me, do you know that?’’ he tells Louis and doesn’t wait for a reply as he continues. ‘’And I honestly don’t think that is ever going to change, whether two years from now or more.’’ He swallows. He doesn’t know where this is coming from. Maybe because he’s a bit tipsy from earlier but he feels sober now, especially with Louis’ sharp blue gaze solely on him. ‘’I just wanted you to know that.’’

‘’Hm,’’ Louis looks away, contemplative. He’s got one hand at the back of Harry’s head, massaging his neck and one hand on Harry’s hand, rubbing up and down his arm.

‘’You do know I feel the same way, right?’’ he tells Harry, eyes returning to him. ‘’I am one hundred percent sure of you, love. You know that, right?’’ Harry shrugs, feeling shy all of a sudden.

‘’I-I know, it’s just. It’s a bit overwhelming, like, we’re still young and yet, you’re already sure about me? Don’t you want to see the world first? Like, we’re playing MSG at the end of the year,’’ Harry is on a roll but he thinks he’s just scared that maybe he’s cornered Louis with his words of commitment. He doesn’t want to trap Louis, and he wants to be sure that he’s laying his heart out there for the right thing but how is he to know and why can’t he stop talking? ‘’And nothing beats that and then we have a new album and so many new and wonderful people to meet and….’’

‘’Harry, love.’’ Louis interrupts with an understanding smile. ‘’MSG is cool and all but it’s because we’re doing it together. All of it, the album, the awards, sure, nothing beats living my dreams but it’ even better living them with you, H, you know why?’’

‘’Why?’’ he ask, his voice small.

‘’Because even after that, when there’s no dream to live for anymore, there’s you, at the beginning, till the end, through all of it and there’s nothing else worth keeping or fighting for. I promise you that.’’

‘’That’s a big promise.’’ Harry says, feeling a bit breathless and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s been lying on his stomach for more than an hour or because that’s generally how Louis makes him feel, all explosive and fragile at the same time but God it’s worth it.

‘’And I never break my promises to you, ever.’’ Louis says seriously before picking up Harry’s hand and kissing the center of his palm. ‘’It’s you and me, love, through thick and thin. I promise you.’’


	12. Chapter 12

_“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”_  
**Laurell K. Hamilton**

 

Present day

It’s quiet in the V.I.P. waiting room, has been since they’ve entered the place more than two hours ago. Louis was bed-wheeled to the emergency room and the other four, upon John's request, were checked up for possible pneumonia infection. As John was right to assume by checking his lungs, Louis has caught the disease. An onslaught of memories fill Harry’s head, unstoppable, even after the doctor finally enters and explains stuff to them.

''For those with congenital heart disease, the risk of developing respiratory tract infections is quite high.'' The doctor explains to the boys alongside John. Her face looks fatigued, like she'd been up all night in the emergency room or something. Her hair’s in disarray and Liam notes that she looks quite a bit like Brenda Johnson from that police series, except that the doctor's hair’s honey-brown instead of goldilocks blond.

''So, it isn't severe sore throat?'' Liam asks. He’s the only one with a voice tonight. Zayn and Niall are quiet. Harry looks like he’s about to topple over, too tired and exhausted, though emotionally and mentally more than physically. He doesn’t want to be disturbed, not when Louis is swimming in his head.

''No, his throat is sore but that's not the main issue here. RTIs are serious matters. They're infections of the lungs and airways, a fine example being pneumonia and with your job's high stress levels and having just come back from London less than a week ago to finish your tour here, along with the cold weather there, jetlag and coming back here, I am not surprised by this outcome.''

Harry listens but doesn't care. He’s too tired to listen to doctors dressing up words or dumbing them down for them to understand. Louis is sick, that's nothing new, and spending two days in London before coming back, doing their radio 1 breakfast show and performing for an important charity event in the middle of their tour doesn’t change that. What he wants to hear is a permanent cure, not new medical words to describe every cough or sneeze or chest ache.

However, regardless of their exhaustion, they had all agreed to the check-up and since Harry was the closest to Louis at all times, he got more antibiotics shots than the rest, just as a precautionary and it’s possible that he might also contract the disease what with the kiss and all but they're still running tests so they're yet to confirm. But at this point, Harry could care less because if getting sick means understanding what Louis' going through, then bring it on, take his lungs away.

''And I'm afraid there's more to just the pneumonia, here.'' Dr. Sheryl, as her name tagged states, says, her eyes moving across the four of them, along with Paul and John.

''What?'' Liam says. He’d heard correctly but this is just too much to take. Much to the boys' dismay, Dr. Sheryl sighs sadly.

''I'm afraid the pneumonia is just a screen that’s hiding the true reason behind Louis' collapse tonight.''

''Screen? What does that mean?'' Paul asks, startling when the doctor wasn't done explaining Louis' condition. Harry wants to see Louis but he also wants to hear what the doctor has more to say.

''Well, the pneumonia explains the bloody coughs, the wheezing and the rapid breathing but it doesn't explain the high temperature, the chilling, the sweating, the pain in the muscle and joints. Those are symptoms that patients with congenital heart disease are at risk of developing and they belong to an infection called ''Endocarditis''.''

''Okay.'' Liam drawls out, not liking where the conversation was heading.

''Can you please just fix him already?'' Harry begs, talking for the first time since Dr. Sheryl started explaining things.

''Excuse me?'' she says, looking at him above the rim of her glasses.

''Look, you're taking too much time talking these things out with us when you can be spending more time finding a cure for our Louis.'' Harry says. He knows deep down he's being rude but he wants to see Louis and he wants to see him now. ''So c'mon, do something. I mean, you obviously know more about his condition than the rest of us so why don't you stop talking medical and let us see him already?''

''The reason why,'' she interrupts just as Liam was about to patronize Harry. It's obvious; what with Harry's bloodshot eyes and red-rimmed halos, that he is deeply affected by what's happening to his band mate and that he just wants to get things over with to see him already. She knows all that but it's not that simple. ''I'm not letting you see him just as yet is because this is important and I have questions. Do you happen to know if Louis chews gum?''

''Gum?'' Liam asks after an exchange of confusing glances passes through. By this point, Zayn and Niall's interest peaked in; even Harry's eyes have gleamed with a peak of curiosity, albeit with a hint of impatience. Paul and John exchange looks as well.

''I'm sorry but I don't know why this is important. I mean, its just gum.'' Liam starts, trying not to let his rudeness or impatience show. Moreover, he's finding the topic of chewing gum a bit ludicrous considering the severity of the matter.

''Look, gum disease can potentially lead to endocarditic, therefore, it is very important to maintain excellent oral hygiene if you have congenital heart disease. Now, I'm sure Louis is a clean person but maybe he borrowed some sort of gum from someone, a product that passed its expiration date, maybe he…''

''Shit, Zayn.'' Niall interrupts here. ''You're taking Nicotine gum, right? To quit smoking?''

All eyes turn to Zayn, almost in unison, making Zayn shift uncomfrotably in his seat.

''Okay, but I never gave any to Louis. Besides, he doesn't smoke.''

''Shit, shit shit.'' Harry curses.

Everyone turn to him as his eyes went back and forth, like he was reviewing pages of memories in his mind.

''What is it, Mr. Styles?'' Dr. Sheryl asks, concerned about the agonized look on Harry's face.

''What is it?'' Dr. Sheryl insists when Harry didn't reply.

''Okay, I don't know if this means anything.'' Harry starts. ''But when we were at Heathrow airport, a fan gave Louis a poster she made of us and a pack of mint gum, with a wrapper design she made out of photos of our faces, or something like that, I don't know. Anyway, Louis found it hilarious,'' Harry chuckles feebly at the memory but knowing where Louis is now, he couldn't suppress the tears in his voice. ''Said something like 'that's gonna be our next merchandise' and that he's gonna keep it all to himself and not share it with any of us, which is ridiculous because you know, he's Louis, right?'' Harry looks at the boys, and they nod their heads, almost too vigorously, simply to play along and ignore the look of forced humor in Harry's voice, knowing that if he could help it, that Harry would be crying right now just thinking about a happy moment with Louis at one point in time.

''Well, he kept the gum.'' Harry continues. ''I didn't think it was a big deal or anything.''

''Okay, do you think he still has it?'' Dr. Sheryl asks. ''Do you know where we can find it?''

''But it's just a pack of gum!'' Harry splutters, on the verge of tears again. ''He lent me some, I remember that and I know he's sick and I'm not but what harm can that possibly do?''

''Listen, Harry. This is serious. Endocarditis is an infection of the lining of the heart and valves, or both. The condition usually develops when an infection in another part of the body, such as on the skin or the gums, spreads through the blood into the heart. Now, if that packet of chewing gum were home-made or perhaps the girl made them as part of a school project or as you said, as some kind of fan gift, then its FDA unapproved and maybe it caused Louis, who has congenital heart disease, a gum disease and put in mind that those who have Louis' severe condition, must maintain good oral hygiene…''

''Yes, you said that already!'' Harry snaps, causing Liam to put an arm on his shoulder.

''Okay, I'm sorry and like I said, I'm not saying anything against Louis here because I'm sure he chewed those gum packets not knowing what it could do to him but you must understand Harry, that I am assuring you; gum disease can cause endocarditis.'' She pauses for emphasis, letting the words sink in.

''And such an infection will need to be treated in a hospital with injections of antibiotics because if it's not treated, it can cause life-threatening damage to the heart.''

The sincerity in which she spoke and the way her brown eyes bored into Harry's, sent chills down his spine. He makes a hint of a strangled sound as he tries to speak, a broken sound deep in his throat as he looks at her like he's trying to assess the possibility of her messing with him. To the others, he looked like a pouting, wounded puppy but then his lips tremble because Harry realize the opposite; that she is not messing with him, that in no way could she be that cruel. Fresh tears cascade quietly down his face in mere seconds as he maintains eye-contact.

''A…Are yyou…saying I…I could l…lose…him?'' Harry asks, his voice on the verge of breaking.

''I can't give him those antibiotics unless I can know for sure so,'' she pauses, changing the words she was about to say, not wanting to confirm the severity of the situation. ''I need to know to be certain.''

Before Harry could answer, Paul stalks towards the door of the waiting room, away from them.

''I'm going to find that packet of gum.'' He says. ''Harry, where can I find it?''

''It must be under his bunk, along with his prescription medicine. He keeps everything there. Right, Harry?'' Liam answers instead, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders now, hoping he can hold in Harry's imminent distress. Harry just nods, numb in his seat.

Paul walks out without another word and the silence returns. Harry leans into Liam and stares into space, tears rolling almost involuntarily, like Harry's not aware he's crying. Liam thinks this is shock again.

''He's going to be alright, Harry.'' Liam says as he holds him close under his arm. ''They know what to do now, you’ve helped so much. Louis would be so proud of you.''

That just makes Harry's tears flow harder.

 

Paul finds the packet of gum inside one of the pockets of Louis' skinny jeans, thrown along with other several items of clothing under his bunk. It doesn't take long for them to find out that the gum is in fact, home-made and definitely the source of Louis' ailment.

Antibiotics were nursed immediately and several other steps were being undertaken as the boys wait for a couple more hours in the dull-looking waiting room.

Zayn had felt restless in his seat and ended up on the floor, settling in front of Harry, leaning against his knees.

‘’I guess we’re in for a long night,’’ he comments, not really directing his words at anyone.

‘’John, can I take your place?’’ Niall asks before he gets up. John nods, knows the boys want to be close together and lets Niall have his previous seat on Liam’s other side. Once the paramedic complies, Liam wraps an arm around Niall, pulling the boy in, that Niall's head almost bumps Harry's. Sitting across from them now, John looks at the four boys sitting close to each other, almost cocooned into each other's warmth. _It's no wonder they clicked as a band,_ he thinks. They’re all so comfortable with each other, almost more than brothers that it's easy to forget that they don't have the same mothers or upbringing.

Harry shifts out of Liam's arm when he feels Niall in his space. He sits back a bit but he holds unto Liam's arm, leaning against his shoulder now instead of his chest. He looked down at Zayn and decides to take advantage of the position to play with his hair, which he knows Zayn hates but perhaps wouldn't mind, considering the boredom of the situation and well, it’s something Louis would do. Without further ado, he puts his free hand into work and let myself become transfixed by the way Zayn's silky black strands slip between his fingers. It brings out a memory too vivid to push away…

Louis has always been a sweet tooth kind of guy –hence the chewing gum, he thinks bitterly- that sometimes, he'd go on nothing but a cup of tea and a couple of chocolate bars for a whole morning and be all bouncy and excited compared to the rest of them who'd have a solid breakfast. It reminds him of that one time, after they'd had their first American magazine photo shoot, how Niall made a bet with Louis not to eat chocolate for a whole week. Louis never sets aside a bet and as Harry had expected from his boyfriend, Louis won, fair and square. However, Louis wanted to compensate, eating loads of chocolates and sweets and truffles the week after, almost replacing them with his meals. He was all excited and jittery for a solid week, burning up on sugar frenzy like a steam roller, bouncing off the walls and running around manically, stealing things from the crew and having them chase him, being an all-around nuisance. An adorable nuisance, Harry thinks and no one else will make him think other-wise. It makes for amazing shows, filled with energy and antics, but it also makes for annoyed band mates.

Zayn had started getting a tight, pinched look around his eyes on the fifth day, sending Harry half murderous eyes and half tired looks every time Louis’ not looking.

It had gotten to the point that _Zayn_ \- Louis’ usual partner in crime, the guy who thinks that it’s entirely appropriate to help Louis paint the musician’s dressing room walls with cut-up fruits ( _Ninja-style, Zayney! Let’s do this_ )- had gotten tired of it and Harry knew that it was time to step in. Still, the look on Liam's face when he’d seen pictures of the disaster posted under his twitter username as the instigator, making him the falsely-accused victim to the wrath of Paul and their handlers while Louis laughed like a hyena in the background, -not just at the look on his face but the musicians’ when they saw his lovely work- made his utmost day.

All that was lovely and dandy until on the 7th day, he found Louis on the bathroom floor, vomiting. Harry had of course run to him, slid to his knees by his side, rubbed a hand up and down his back and comforted Louis as he got all those sweets out of his system. He then cleaned his boyfriend up and cuddled him to sleep by running his fingers through his hair. Yes, he loved his hair, his light, golden-brown hair that he can see himself caress forever, see himself comfort Louis by just passing his fingers through the soft strands and watch his tentative movements bring Louis relief and comfort.

The memory is like a blow to the heart and Harry stills his hand on Zayn's hair as the memory digs deep into the crevices of his ribs. Trying to make the pain go away, he thinks back on the look on Liam's face when he saw all those pictures on his twitter, Louis obviously being the man behind the strings simply by his choice of words when he’d tweeted about the whole thing.

''What's so funny?''

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by the abrupt question. He realizes, what with Zayn craning his neck back and looking at him, that he'd just been asked a question.

''What?''

''You just laughed like a second ago, mate.'' Zayn says. ''Anything wrong?''

''Oh, umm. No, nothing wrong, just remembering something.'' Harry answers quietly, a smile on his face.

''Well, I'm bored so you might as well share.'' Niall says, sounding indeed bored. Harry looks up and sees that Liam wouldn't mind hearing him out either.

Zayn even turns around and sits with crossed legs on the floor, looking at him gently. Harry sighs. He slides across the bench until his head is resting on Liam's thigh. It would be easier to keep the memory of blue eyes and flashing smiles still playing in his head if he isn't looking at them.

''Well, I was just remembering when Louis and Zayn fruit-ninja-d the band’s dressing room.''

That line is enough to get the boys going. Liam groans, Zayn chuckles and Niall laughs out right. Soon, they’re quietly sharing stories of other pranks Louis had done to them, with them, like drawing a stick-man figure with a sharpie on Niall's leg, shaving Liam's left eyebrow and doodling allover Zayn's pocket mirror with red lipstick.

John listens to them from his corner, laughs amusedly by their antics when he realizes that Harry has once again grown quiet. In fact, he hasn't uttered another word after starting the conversation and when he thinks about it, he finds it better to draw Harry back, finding it best not to keep him to his thoughts or else he might spiral into a crying fit again.

''Hey, I have one.'' He says and the boys, though surprised that he'd joined them, don't stop him from sharing either.

''Oh yeah?'' Niall challenges. ''What you got that can possibly beat Zayn and Louis getting lost in Australia?'' Niall asked, still laughing from said story.

''How about that one time Louis tried to jump over the footie table but broke it instead and blamed it on Lux? Remember Paul's face?''

''Oh my God!!! I can't believe he did that!'' Niall guffaws with laughter as Harry remembers Louis' utterly serious face. He’d ranted off one excuse after another to an angry-looking Paul, blaming the whole thing on Liam and then Lux and then Ashton and then finally settling on Lux being the main trouble-maker. Paul had just folded his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow. Everyone knows that Lux is a downright angel and that blaming her was the wrong move. It amused Harry how Louis was very insistent that she was the one, using her innocence as a cover. What four-year-old even does that? He’d asked back then. The aghast-like look on Louis’ face was priceless. But there’s another thing that stands out with the memory of that day.

''He’d gotten a bruise from that fall.''

Their laughter dies down slowly when John realizes that Harry spoke.

''You sayin' somethin' Harry?'' he asks gently.

''He got a bruise at the dip of his back,'' Harry continues quietly, staring up at the ceiling, almost transfixed and in his own world. ''Just, right above his bum, from that fall.''

They kind of feel a bit crest-fallen, unable to know what to say, whether it was due to the shift in the air or because talking about Louis, even about the best of times shared with him, does not lessen the throbbing unease of the situation at hand.

''It’s quite funny,'' Harry continues, sniffing a bit. ''How discovering about it the next day and not the instant it happened was such a big deal to me, how a tiny little bruise on his body could make me just go…nuts.'' He exhales.

''Yeah,'' Liam says, just for the sake of saying something.

John actually remembers that day, how it happened right after their very first Arena show in the middle of the tour. It was an amazing show. Throughout the day though, before it was time to perform, John remembers Louis being too bouncy, completely unapologetically running around, about to steal a golf cart when Harry caught Louis by the wrist on his fifth spin around the big parking lot outside the arena and tugged him out to one of their buses, shooting an apologetic wince at Paul over his shoulder. John was on the bus, reading a medical magazine and saw them from getting inside from the window. He was sitting on the passenger seat next to that of the driver's, legs spread out, with a thermos on the console, when both boys stumbled in. He had been intent on continuing reading but what with the bus no longer quiet and empty, his attention was slightly diverted. He looked amusedly at Harry and Louis through the front mirror, shaking his head fondly at them.

Harry had shouldered the door open and hauled Louis through up the few steps, dropping down onto the nearest couch and pulling a very loud and very talkative Louis down between his legs. He'd let him settle there, back to Harry’s chest and still practically vibrating with energy, before he wrapped both arms around Louis’ belly and pulls him into Harry’s body tightly.

“Have you spoken to your mom today?” Harry had asked.

Louis nodded, head tilted back to look at Harry, hands coming up to play with Harry’s fingers.

“Yeah. She said Lottie wants to dye her hair red, yellow and blue which I completely okayed and of course drove my mum nuts.'' Harry chuckled and shook his head, looking fondly as Louis' eyes strayed up and continued talking with a thoughtful expression. ''Fizzy is doing great. She’s very into creative writing these days but she's having trouble with math. Mum’s trying to find her a tutor that’s around her age but apparently all of them keep asking for some ugly bloke’s autograph. Think his name might be Harry Styles or summat.”

Harry let Louis pry his hands apart and place one over his left pec, right over his heart. Louis started tracing random shapes on the back of his hand and Harry simply looked down to watch Louis's finger move across his skin.

“Yeah, might’ve heard of the bloke. He's got that weird hair going on, right?”

Louis laughed and wiggled a little, pinching Harry’s knuckle. “So weird, mate, you’ve no idea. Looks like Tarzan if you ask me.”

“Huh? My hair's only like that when I've just been in the shower but now that you mention it…Maybe its just weirdly puffy and scraggly at the same time.” Harry wondered. “Hey, stop squirming.”

Louis huffed and stilled, much to John's amusement. “You know; you’d think that he’d have better locks, what with having a team of professionals and all.” he mused. “However, that Tomlinson bloke, he’s got some great hair going on. Looks fucking sick in a quiff if you ask me.” He moves a little more, like he can’t help it. John couldn’t honestly believe the kid’s got a hole in his heart.

“I said stop squirming. You're fidgeting too much, love.” Harry said fondly. He grabbed Louis’ fingers and interlocked his fingers through them.

“I wasn’t,” Louis complained, but he’d gone still now, fingers lax in Harry’s grip.

“You know what, though? I think that Tommo guy looks better now than when he had Justin Beiber's hair style going on,” Harry said, keeping his grip on Louis’ fingers tight.

''You think?'' Louis pondered, serious and all.

''Yup, that fly-away fringe look that he’s got going on now leaves quite an impression and not just on the fans, if you ask me.” Harry whispered that last part to Louis' ear before giggling.

Louis laughed, quieter this time. “I dunno. I think he still looks boyish and ought to rock a better hairstyle, if I’m being honest.”

Harry hummed, not liking Louis' lack of confidence but seemed to be in too good of a mood to sour it up. “Maybe a bright pink bob,” Harry said thoughtfully, making John suppress a chuckle. The bones in Louis’ wrist shifted in his grip slightly, only it was involuntary, because Louis couldn’t stop himself. Harry didn’t say anything about it.

“That would be something,” Louis agreed. His head tips back against Harry’s chest.

“Could comb it for you, rather than have Lou handle it,” Harry had said and it was here that John turned back to his book and shut them out of his thoughts...

It’s funny because Harry’s thinking of the exact same memory. He remembers the feel of Louis' hair under his chin, his smell, his weight against his chest. He remembers having a hard time remembering what they were talking about. Louis was so warm in his arms, his weight all so familiar. Harry couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose against the skin on the back of his ear, his eyes unable to stop drooping.

“I remember straightening your hair once, Styles. Remember that?” Louis had mumbled. From the angle they were sat, Harry could see his beloved's eyelashes resting against his cheeks, just as tired as Harry was.

“Mm,” was all Harry could manage. His grip on Louis’ fingers had loosened, fingers sliding out to simply rest against his hands.

That’s how Paul had found them twenty minutes later, mostly asleep and mumbling nonsense to each other. He had led them back into the venue with his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry stumbled after Paul with his eyes half open, pointer finger linked with Louis’ so Louis wouldn’t get left behind. He'd looked over at him, saw the boy yawn tiredly, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his sweater-pawed hand, blinking his eyes tightly.

Harry remembers that memory so vividly, the way Louis looked at that moment in time that he wishes he could have frozen it and put it in a frame. Harry’s never been a man to have a fetish but the arch of bone and pull of ligaments at Louis' ankles, visible underneath the fold of his jeans, were, and still are, quite beautiful. Looking back at him in that one single glimpse, he’d noticed all the things that made him fall for Louis' appearance right after falling for his heart; his beautiful ankles, the curve of his calves in skinny jeans, the outline of his knees, the pull of denim over his thighs, his little hands and blunt fingers, soft pink lips, his sculpted chin, long honey lashes fanned over sharp cheekbones and tight lines at the crease of his eyes, with a mouth that could tear him apart and hands that could possibly put him back together again. Harry loves how he's incredibly loud for such a small thing, how his giggles are devilish as he flashes pointy teeth, falling back when he cackles his way to breathlessness.

It's been a while since he'd seen Louis laugh that his memory dims along with the shadow of a fond smile that’s displayed on his face.

The boys have left him to his thoughts, knowing that Louis is all there is on his mind.

They wouldn't be wrong; as another hour passes and they drift off into silence again, Louis is still the one prominent thought in Harry's brain, keeping him awake and unable to sleep.

He remembers walking back to the dressing room one time after he and Louis waved at some fans. Zayn had clapped him on the back hard when they made it back inside. Harry flapped a hand at him then went to make tea, bringing some to Louis where he’d slumped face down on a sofa. He’d convinced his boyfriend to sip some of it before they head off to change. They were quiet and though Harry's tea was going cold, he couldn't help but ignore it and stare at Louis sipping his tea instead.

Indeed, he just sat there, watching Louis' chest rise and fall, trying to memorize the mechanics of his collarbones slightly visible through his shirt, the constellation of tiny freckles that paint his neck, the dusting of stubble at his chin. His hair was out and not hidden in the beanie he wore when they were outside greeting the fans, looking all straight and swept over to the side leaving his little pink tipped ears to fend for themselves.

He feels like a creep sometimes when he realizes that he'd stopped doing whatever he'd been doing just so that he can stare at Louis. Sometimes, as soon as Louis or one of the other boys take notice of Harry’s watching, they'd make a cheeky comment around the lines of ‘keep it PG, mate’ or ‘no eye rape, Harry’ or ‘remember, we are watching you’ which would turn Harry’s cheeks a deep shade of red as he quickly averts his eyes in embarrassment. This, of course doesn't stop him for long because as soon as they had changed interests he would go right back to ogling over Louis until he’d get caught again.

Sometimes, it happens on stage, right under the headlights and the screaming fans. He'd get caught up in Louis, eyes catching every single color Louis gives off like the rough red color of his jeans, the buttery ochre of his wrists, his small fingers as they clutch unto a mic, the creamy rose of his cheeks when he's done laughing so hard, the glow of a halo his hair emits when the spotlight hits his face. It's like he's seeing every curve and sharp edge for the first time all over again and it always stuns him, the way Louis' body tilts lazily to avoid an item being thrown on stage, the angle his feet point at when he walks around, the workings of his limbs when he scratches at the back of his neck or when he wipes the sweat on his upper lip or when he sweeps his fringe to the side. It hits him, every time, like bullets fired from every angle, how wonderful Louis is and how utterly besotted he is by him.

And every time Louis looks back at him, and smiles rather than roll his eyes and dismiss Harry's ogling, Harry smiles back and knows that its gonna be a good show.

Then, when the show's over and they stumble unto the bus and the two of them squeeze into the small space of whose ever bunk they decided to sleep in for the night, that's when Harry's heart swells a thousand times. He swears, there are times he finds it hard to breathe because Louis, ever so amazing, stunning, bright as the sun, is right there, choosing to be right bloody next to him and sometimes, its too damn hard to believe that Louis fell in love right back at him just as hard as he fell for Louis.

In that small confine where it feels like even their words need to be reduced to whispers in order to have place to occupy between their lips, everything intensifies; like Louis' arms around him. They’re solid and tan, just like the rest of him. Louis' not built or at least, not as buff as Liam, just has a soft curve of an established bicep, but he can see the veins in his forearm through the dim overhead light of the bunk. He can see the jut of bone at his thin wrist when he fiddles with his fingers and he thinks it’s beautiful.

‘’What are you looking at?’’ Louis’ eyes would say and he wishes he could say it all. Wishes he could talk about his slim shoulders and narrow chest and soft neck, tell him he’s just this beautiful thing that Harry wants to memorize a thousand times over. It’s because this boy, this man, that always looks after him, always chases after him when he's down, sprawled out on the then unfamiliar mattress, constantly taking care of him, who is always oh so strong and confident, forever reassuring him that he would find a way out whenever he's sad, that he would be okay as long as he sticks by his side, whose small words of hope have never failed him and have always helped carry him through dark days, yes, this man, is simply everything he’s ever tried to be but failed.

Harry is unworthy, for always taking and reaping Louis' affections but never giving back. God, looking back, he finds it laughable that he ever (even for a second) got caught up in his own hype because Louis is so much better than him, in literally everything, from the way he carries himself, proud and protective yet holds a softness in his eyes and this sickness of his, its like an endless burden on his shoulders, as if he wants them there, as if he asked for it but Harry know he didn’t because God, no one would want that. He just knows that God would never puncture a hole through something so beautiful just to see it go to waste. He's everything; Harry thinks again, he's got it all, from the bend of his knuckles, the stretch of his toes, the dip of his waist, the curl of his lashes and how he has the fucking ability to ruin him with one fucking look and yet, he’s the one who’s suffering, the one who’s burdened with an illness, the one that Harry needs to take care of the most but can’t, the one...

''Harry, please don't cry.''

Harry is startled by his name being called. When he tilts his head sideways to see who interrupted his thoughts, he feels a tear spill down the invisible crease in his eyes. He blinks and wipes it away furiously. Zayn, who’s been the one to notice and therefore spoke, looks at him sympathetically.

''You still thinking about him?'' he asks softly.

''Always.'' Harry sniffs as he looks back at the ceiling, trying to blink away his treacherous tears, only to feel more of them clogging his vision.

''Harry…'' Liam starts, his voice soft. But Harry just shakes his head, groans because he's miserable with the unbearable emptiness of Louis' absence.

''You don't know how this is killing me, to see the person who overwhelms me, inspires me, who loves me the way he does, hurt so much,” Harry's voice croaks.

''You wanna talk about it?'' Liam says after a moment of Harry sniffling and brushing tears away.

''Don’t know if it'll help.'' Harry mutters back.

''Try me.'' Liam counters gently. ''Try us.''

''Its just,'' Harry doesn't even know he's talking about it when he does but no one stops him, knowing that it might help, that anything can help at this point. ''Like I’ve never felt like this about anyone before in my life. And––it’s a bit terrifying and I just…'' his breath hitches. ''I still can't believe this is happening, you know?'' By now, everyone else's attention is on him. He'd been quiet for too long and if Harry wants to speak his thoughts, then who are they to stop him.

''Like, happening to him, of all people.'' Harry continues. ''And sure, he's been going through this much longer than when we started going through it with him but still, its like, they got the wrong guy or something, I mean,'' Harry's voice clogs, his thoughts a jumble as he tried to fix them up. He sits up; his hand reaches up and holds his head, long fingers covering his eyes as more tears tip over. ''Louis, he's like, he's like our older brother, first and foremost, and sure, he's more to me than that but I'm not saying this because he's my boyfriend or anything or that I can't be objective but he really doesn't deserve this.'' Harry says and more tears leak through his fingers as if to emphasize his words desperately, ''He just doesn't because no one as good-hearted as he is deserves something like this and like…''

''Harry, please, you're pushing yourself too hard.'' Zayn says, concerned. Harry sniffs as he lowers his hands, eyes strayed away.

''Sometimes, it makes me crazy inside. It gets to me, and I hurt, right here.” Harry looks at Zayn as he taps his chest. “And it’s not a bad crazy,” he says quickly. “It’s just…a lot of feelings. And sometimes I think…sometimes I need to just get away and breathe because he kind of breaks me sometimes and makes me feel so much. But not like this. I don't want to be away from him like this.”

''You are not away from him.'' Liam says, turning Harry round and twisting so that he can look at Harry properly.

''God, Harry, you think you're the only one who thinks like this?'' Liam chuckles wetly. ''You think he's not fighting for his life in there, just so that he can come back to you?''

''I don't want him to fight,'' Harry says agonizingly. ''I don't want him to lift a single finger, Liam. I just want him back here, right here with me.''

''And who says he isn't with you all the time?''

''Thoughts of him are not enough.'' Harry shakes his head.

''Look, I know, okay?'' Liam says gently. He reaches out and wipes a stray tear from Harry's blotched cheek before he straightens and sighs. He shakes his head with a sad, fond smile on his face.

''He never shuts up about you, you know?'' he says, almost speaking to himself. Harry looks at him carefully. Niall turns around as well and sits on the floor by Liam's legs, folding his arms around one of his knees and looking at him like he's waiting for a bed-time story. Liam's arm naturally gravitates to the back of his neck where his fingers start to play with the blonde strands of hair. Zayn is rubbing a gentle hand up and down Harry's knee, comforting him in silence.

“Whenever you're not around, he's somehow like this too; unable to stop thinking of you even for a second.” Liam pauses as Harry's ears perk up. “I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s with you, let alone talking about you. I’ve never seen him care about someone the way he cares about you, like all the damn time, it's like a cheesy rom-com,” he goes on, albeit chuckling, making Harry smile a bit through his tears. “You don’t see him when you’re not around, so trust me, I know. You don’t listen to him recount every fucking thing you do when you’re together. I can’t tell you how many times he’s kept me up over tea blabbing about some cute thing you did or some adorable thing you said. And it was worse in the beginning, the very beginning when he didn't know that he loved you yet, at least like this. He wasn't aware of himself when he would subtly mention you; say stuff like he thought you were fit or that you’d be a proper good date, yeah? But, even then I could tell it was different. It’s always been different with you. And he's told me stuff, you know? About people he dated but who couldn't handle him, girls who didn’t like him talking about his many sisters. Girls, who got fed up with him for keeping too many secrets, keeping his sickness a mystery from them. From what I can gather from all that, I'd say you're the first not to let go, Harry. You're the only one.”

Harry lets Liam’s words sit between them for a moment. The sound of his sniffing had ended, and for a few seconds there is nothing but silence. They stare at each other and there are no words that either of them could think to say. Liam’s right, Harry knows that. Realizing Louis has been keeping so much from him really shook him up, sure. It made him feel insecure about himself in terms of where he stands in Louis' eyes and their relationship but it was stupid to doubt, even if he wasn't aware that maybe he was doubting. It was stupid because Harry knows better. He knows Louis loves him, even if he couldn’t express it in words, even if he couldn't get his body to cooperate.

In a fit of emotion, Harry launches himself at Liam with a fierce hug and a muttered 'thank you.' Liam’s about to say something when the door of the waiting room opens and a nurse enters.

''You can go see him now.''


	13. Chapter 13

_“It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.”_

**Marcel Proust**

Harry is swept by a feeling of vertigo as the elevator takes them upstairs to where Louis is. The doctor said that Louis would be a little out of breath so they shouldn't push him. Harry does not have any intentions of doing so and as much as he’s nervous and excited to see Louis, he’s also dreading the state he'll find him in. Somehow he wants to prolong the minutes but soon there he is, standing outside the door barring him from Louis' room.

''You go in first, yeah?'' Niall offers, taking a step back from where he’s stood next to him. Zayn and Liam nod encouragingly. It’s obvious to the all of them that Harry’s still a bit shaken up so they don't want to stand in his way and make his impatience get the better of him. In short, the sooner he's with Louis, the better he'll get back to his old self and not the angst-ridden Harry that has been their companion since Louis' collapse.

Harry nods, grateful but unable to find words for now. Hopefully, he'll be able to fix that when Louis comes in sight.

With a deep breath, he shakily reaches for the door knob and opens the door.

He still can't believe he's finally getting to do this after waiting for hours but then he's in the room with his lovely boy, except it almost feels like he’s completely alone because Louis’ silent and still.

 _Breathe, can't forget to breathe_. His chest is actually full, it feels like the pores in his body have closed up and he is trapped inside, trapped everywhere that is not Louis.

While he’s looking, he thinks he should probably be thorough. Louis is half-sitting, half lying down. He's shirtless and the blanket is covering him up till under his pecs where there are stuff attached to his chest, monitoring his heart rhythm and breathing. His eyes are closed, his disarrayed hair covering his forehead and half his eye. His skin is pale, the black under his eyes more prominent. His cheekbones look aghast and protruded. There's an oxygen mask covering his mouth. There are about ten different needles protruding the inside of both his wrists, and the bent of his arms. Beeping that means his heart’s going and his lungs are working, despite what seems to be all physical evidence to the contrary.

He has always been tiny, Harry thinks, but in that moment he seems mortally small and so, so fragile, that Harry's eyes well up with tears at the sight of his boy like this, with his face so ashen, dusty eyelashes casting down shadows on sharp cheekbones.

And Harry loves him so much, loves him a great amount even like this, in this moment where Louis looks so far away, so unlike the Louis that Harry has loved for ages.

As Harry takes a step forward, just one small step, the scent of chemicals hit him and it's almost overwhelming and the vision of Louis wrapped up in all that makes Harry's stomach ache a little.

But still, loving Louis so much, its like even in moments like this, he can still fall in love with him and God knows he'd fallen in love with Louis again and again and again that its hard to prevent it from happening now. Every time Louis had listened to each and every one of his ramblings, how he has supported each and every effort of Harry's, how he had loved Harry more that he ever could have imagined being loved, how can Harry not love him? And now Harry has no idea if he'd ever get to whisper his love into that skin again after this and no. Just no. Not going there and not thinking that.

 _Breathe. Breathing is important, yes, breathe_ , as he intakes air with a shuddering, shallow gasp.

Harry takes another step forward and suddenly, Louis twitches and it's like everything's turned into a blur and Louis is all there is. Harry suddenly loses track of everything; those needles, the heart monitor, all of it. Nothing has any meaning for him anymore – except, of course, for Louis.

Harry is allover him suddenly, walking up to the side of his bed in long strides, bending down as he kisses his forehead.

''Lou?'' he whispers, tears ready to fall. Louis moves his head towards where Harry is and Harry gasps. ''Lou! baby!'' Harry chokes out, moving a gentle hand to touch Louis' cheek next to the plastic of the oxygen mask.

And Louis fucking  _opens his eyes_. They’re disoriented, almost completely exhausted, but he’s never been more beautiful. He locks eyes with Harry and Harry would swear he tries to smile but then his eyes crinkle and bloody hell, he _is_ smiling.

''Hey H-Haz.'' He whispers his greeting, his voice weak but words clear.

“Oh my God, Louis, yes, I’m so proud of you, darling.” Harry kisses all the parts of Louis' face his lips can touch – mostly his forehead and the side of his face that wasn't obscured by the oxygen mask. He gets some words out between kisses. “Good job, sweetheart, that was perfect, I’m so proud of you. You’re so good to me, baby, always so good.”

''I-I missed…you.'' Louis whispers, his breathing fogging up the oxygen mask a bit before condensation sets in.

''I missed you too, darling.'' Harry says in earnest, not bothering to keep the tears from falling or the pain of hearing Louis so out of breath. ''So, so much. I've been awfully pathetic without you.''

''Aw,'' Louis coos weakly. ''That's…h-hard to believe.''

He looks at Harry with so much adoration that Harry melts right away, and plants a kiss on Louis' oxygen mask, a kiss meant for his lips and Louis just fucking _glows_.

‘’I love you.’’ Harry says, almost helplessly. Louis blushes, takes a deep beep breathe, but it gets whooshed out of him. Harry cannot bear to see him try again when he already knows what Louis wants to say.

“Shh, it’s okay. You just rest,” Harry says gently as he plants a kiss on Louis' cheekbone. “Okay? I’ll be here when you wake up again. Just rest, darling. I love you so much.”

Louis' lips twitch, like he wants to kiss back, and his hand moves till reaching Harry's chest. And that right there is more than Harry dreamed might happen at his most hopeful, so he’s almost happy enough to drown out the ache of being too worried still.

''I love you.'' Louis whispers, like he knows Harry needs to hear it, which in turn, means he needs to say it. Knowing that about Louis, about his chivalry and ability to always know what he needs, Harry swallows the lump in his throat and smiles.

“I love you too. I'll wait right here,” he says. “Not going anywhere, so you just go back to sleep. I adore you.''

But Louis won’t let go, scrunches up his fingers in Harry's shirt and he knows Harry wouldn’t want him to let go anyways really because he looks like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. ''W-where are the boys?'' he asks.

Harry obliges immediately, holding unto Louis' hand on his chest. He yells 'boys!' without letting go of Louis and bless them, they're responding in seconds. “Is he okay?” Liam asks, his head peering through.

“He’s awake, get the others.” Louis squeezes Harry's thumb, just a twitch, and Harry looks at him and knows what he wants. He fixes his boy's fringe and whispers, ''You look okay, beautiful even. Don't worry about it.''

Liam comes back with Zayn and Niall in tow. When his band-mates enter, Louis' expression immediately lifts, forgetting all about the way he was sure he looked close to a ghost. His bright, cheeky, joyful, brilliant, everything-that-encompassed-Louis' smile appears on his lips and with whatever strength he could muster, he opens his arms wide.

“Where’s the love, boys?” he asks after taking a deep breath, so his words come out in one exhale. But he's happy though, beckoning them forward.

They needed no more encouragement than that. Harry pulls back right on time for the abrupt attack, a soft giggle escaping his lips. With a shared cry, the other three rush forward and tackle their sickly friend against the mattress, wrapping flailing arms around Louis until they were stuck in a strange, confusing – but not unfamiliar - tangle of limbs. Louis wheezes out a groan as they all fall on top of him, smothering him with hugs and kisses, but it was immediately followed by a rich, genuine laugh that reverberates through them all. Lips press against Louis’ cheeks, hands seize his fingers and squeeze them tightly, his torso draped with three other wriggling bodies and he’s sure he feels more than one face nuzzling into his neck, burrowing into the spot between his shoulder and his collarbone.

God only knows what any witnesses would think if they walk past the open door.

“Alright!” Louis finally laughs in a hoarse voice. “Alright…I take it back! O-one at a time, I-I can’t breathe!”

''Yeah, boys c'mon back off.'' Harry shoos, trying to sound light but actually freaking out. The boys back away, laughing at themselves, eyes not leaving Louis. Zayn moves aside to let Harry come back to Louis' side where he links hands with Louis' immediately. Zayn's so gentle, petting Louis' leg over the blanket. “God, mate. Good to see you’re up. Sorry about all this.'' He points airily around, indicating what they’ve just done with no sign of regret on his face. ''Just get some rest now, yeah?”

''Yeah, you do that.'' Liam seconded. ''Or else Harry here will faint allover you.''

Louis' eyes widen when he hears Liam's words. His eyebrows pull together just a hint and Harry knows that’s worry.

“I’m fine, I swear I’m really fine,” he says, knowing that Louis is probably not buying it; God knows Harry can't lie for shit. He knows what Liam means, that Harry might have pneumonia as well and he also knows, from the guilty look on Liam's face, that the lad didn't really mean to out him or something. But now, Louis' worried and he doesn't like it so as his instinct usually goes in situations like this, he goes for damage control. “Really. I’m right here for you, baby. I’m here, standing and all.” But Louis won’t stop looking at him with concern. It doesn't go away when Zayn pulls up two chairs on his side and Harry sits down immediately, aware of the shake in his legs. Harry tries to ignore the concern on Louis' face so he sits in his chair as casually as he can and lowers the bed so he and Louis can still see each other.

''He's really fine, you know.'' Niall says with a bit of cheer, sensing the change in atmosphere. Liam brings in two chairs on his side as well so he also takes a seat. ''Just worried, like all of us.''

Louis' spares Niall a glance, but other than that, he doesn’t look away from Harry. He uses all his energy to push on Harry's hand again, open his mouth and works out a half-articulated warning. “Harreh…”

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he tries to say. “Don’t over-exert yourself.”

“No,” Louis says, and Harry can hear the pout in his voice.

“No what, love? Do you need something? Anything.”

Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows that Harry is hiding something from him and he knows that Harry knows that too. With considerable effort, he gets another couple words out. ''I love you, Haz. I really do but you're hiding something from me and just coz am like this, doesn't mean I can't take care of you so spill.''

Harry really feels like crying halfway through watching Louis puff his chest to get those words out. “No. No, you don’t worry about me, please, okay? I promise you, it's really nothing. Or its something.'' he backtracks quickly at the arch of Louis' eyebrow. ''But it's no big deal. Nothing I can't handle, yeah? Just think about you a little for now, okay? Get better. You're okay but sleep some, yeah?”

“S-sleep,” Louis agrees wearily, eyes drifting shut. Then he opens them quickly, alarmed. ''But you're not leaving me, are you?'' he asks Harry hurriedly.

“I’m right here, baby,” Harry says without missing a beat, standing up and kissing his forehead. Louis smiles a little, comforted by that.

“Haz…” he sighs last. “Love.”

“Love you too, darling.’’ He sniffles. ‘’Love you.” Harry kisses his cheek, letting his lips linger as he feels Louis' cheek tighten with a little smile. Louis nods contentedly, taking unsteady breaths. Harry lowers the bed and as they watch, he slips his eyes closed to go back to sleep, the beeping of his heart monitor evens out after a little bit.

Ignoring the aching in his chest, Harry shifts forward in the chair and gingerly puts his arm across Louis’ chest, hugging him as tightly as he could without hurting him. He rests his head down on the soft pillow, facing Louis. The older boy gives a small, shuddering sigh, tilting his head toward Harry’s so that there foreheads just barely rest against one another. They stay like that for a long time and eventually, Louis’ breathing slowly calms down more and more. Harry watches him, staring at Louis’ closed eyelids from two inches away and listening to the endless streaming voice in his head that simply and joyously proclaimed, ‘He’s okay, he’s alright, he’s alright’ over and over.


	14. Chapter 14

 

_“I’ve realized now that hope almost never goes together with reason. It’s something quite irrational_

_and instinctive.”_

**Vasily Grossman**

 

Louis is awoken next day by a wheezing cough, voices of light scolding and concerned reprimanding followed by indignant replies of words fueled with absolute stubbornness. And he knows, before he even opens his eyes, that the boys are right there with him, still in his room and by his side.

''You really must rest, Harry.''

''I will absolutely not leave him and that is final.''

''C'mon mate. You're blowing this out of proportion. You're bed is like ten inches away or something.''

''No means no. I want to sit here, Liam.''

''Harry, why are you being so difficult? You're still going to be in the same room. So what if it’s ten inches away?''

''I will not repeat myself but here goes; No means....''

This time, the cough is ragged and hoarse and it forces Louis to open his eyes, concern filling up his sleep-addled brain.

The boys notice when the heart monitor picks up, immediately turning to a completely unaware, panic-wrought Louis. Harry doesn't know it's because Louis caught sight of the oxygen mask he'd placed on his mouth to breathe and that it's driving Louis mental with immediate concern. Harry drops it and immediately takes charge, standing over Louis, squeezing his hand and looking him dead in the eye.

''Hey, hey!'' he almost shouts when Louis tries to speak past his sudden anxious bout but there are no words leaving his lips, just panicky breaths fogging up his oxygen mask and eyes blown wide with confusion, staring at the oxygen mask dangling around Harry's neck then back at Harry's tired, stern eyes, face and lips going pale by every passing second he doesn’t take a decent breathe.

''Breathe, Louis.” Harry says sternly. “You hear me? You fucking breathe or so help me God, I will properly get pissed at you, got that?”

Louis nods vigorously and obeys, doesn't like Harry's anger, closing his eyes to focus. He can start to pick out the individual pieces of pain, the throbbing in his throat and the most prominent ache in his chest when he tries to pull air in too deep.

“Good,” Harry murmurs, caressing Louis' crown of hair, relaxing when the heart monitor evens out. He looks at the boys and they're all stoned to silence at the other side of the bed, looking between Harry and Louis, not sure what to do. Harry cannot focus on them, focuses on Louis instead. “Good, darling. Okay. You're alright?''

Louis bites his lip, a sign that he’s still worried but nods. He then looks at Liam then at the oxygen mask around Harry's neck then back. Liam knows that he's being demanded to explain.

''Complications developed.'' He starts, looking at Harry apologetically but Harry is too busy bringing his chair closer so he can sit down so Liam continues. ''Mild Pneumonia, from breathing your air in by kissing you, no offense.'' Liam adds quickly before he soldiers on. ''And taking in shallow breaths all night and trying to pretend he’s okay until the doctor had to show him the tests to force him to believe it.'' Liam says, getting his stern voice back that Louis’ noticed before. Liam is looking at Harry with his signature reprimanding daddy look. ''So he gets his own bed,'' Liam brushes a hand in the air and Louis looks to the side to see the aforementioned bed. ''Lots of medicine and an oxygen mask on with stern orders for more rest.'' Liam puts much emphasis on the last word.

''Yeah, no.'' Harry says sarcastically.

“No? W-why not?” Louis frowns.

“You kidding me? I’m not languishing in a bed somewhere far away from you, and I'm not going to let the boys hover all over you while I'm right there on the other side of the room, merely enjoying the view so thank you, but no thanks,” Harry says, all false confidence and happiness.

“No,” Louis says unhappily. “You be s-safe, Haz. Getter better too.” He reaches for Harry's oxygen mask to try to get him to put it on but Harry's catches his hand and traps it.

“I feel so much better with you, though,” Harry says sincerely, sandwiching Louis' hand in both of his. “I couldn’t rest all night without sitting right here.”

“B-but you s-said… ‘m okay,” Louis says, breathing carefully slow. “S-so w-why…”

“Because I worry about you even when you’re one hundred percent okay. Plus, Paul said you're going to be here for a week and your mom is really worried that you had to delay your flight back home because of this, so I promised to worry twice as much while she’s that far away. Besides, I'm completely sure I’d survive waiting at your bedside for even weeks on end, let alone just one week.”

''Y-you're…b-being r-reall…r-really…stubborn.'' Louis says with a pout.

“H-hey,” Harry objects and all words after that disappear as they quickly turn into coughing that doesn’t seem to want to stop, fogging up his oxygen mask that he coughs into.

“T-take mm…” Louis begins.

Still coughing, Harry shakes his head. “I’m okay,” he chokes out.

“You aren’t,” Zayn says from the other side of the room before looking at Louis sternly. “They'd just given him an IV like ten minutes ago before you woke up and he fucking took it off as soon as the nurse left.’’ He then looks at Harry with all seriousness. ‘’And the only reason you're not on your own bed like you're supposed to be is because you threw the biggest fit I’ve ever seen from someone older than five.”

“Yeah, you can go ahead and shut the hell up,” Harry says, voice raspy and about to break into another coughing fit.

“Haz,” Louis sighs. ''Darling, p-please.” Louis' hand moves against the sheets till they find Harry's hair for a ruffle but Harry takes his hand up again, squeezing it firmly in his, sitting closer to the bed for good measure. “You look t-terribly….p-pale.''

“Jesus, alright,'' Harry, as always, surrenders easily when it comes to Louis. He’s never able to resist him, of course. ''Next time I cough, I’ll keep the fucking oxygen on,” Harry says. “But I don’t  _need_  it.”

''How about lunch then?'' Niall chimes. ''Anyone needs lunch? Care for some food?''

It’s a good topic change and so they all recite their orders. Liam and Niall go down to the cafeteria to bring up the food and Zayn tags along, sensing the two other boys need some time alone. Louis immediately asks why he's going to be in the hospital for a week and so, Harry delves into the topic, trying not to use all those high-sounding medical terms because he doesn't want Louis to freak out.

''Your heart is responding well to the antibiotics which is a good thing so far and the pneumonia is treatable so you're doing good. Just rest up as much you can. Hell, you're getting better already.'' Harry tacks in for good measure.

Louis nods, not showing shock or surprise and Harry thinks it's probably because he's been used to hospitals all his life, receiving news like the one he'd just delivered, like it’s a normal occurrence. Harry can never find it in his heart to deem it as such.

''A-and…you?''

''Me? What about me, love?'' Harry asks, thumping Louis' jaw.

''Y-you're…not gonna…r-rest?''

“I'm fine,” Harry assures him earnestly.

“Y-you should get some r-rest,” he says. “R-really. I m-mean it. In a bed.”

“No, I said I'm f-“

“Look,'' Louis interrupts, hating that he’s breathless but knowing that what he has to say is important. ''M okay. T-this….me…s-sick…this isn't…n-new so…I-I know…I'll be okay. B-but I’ll be m-more okay wh… when I know you’ve slept. Y’look like Zayn. Z-zombie Zayn,” Louis says with a touch of a smile.

“Sexier than Zayn, mind you,” Harry sticks out his tongue.

“Pl-please say yes,” Louis says, because he knows Harry, he knows Harry not saying yes is really a no. “You n-need it. And I need it…more…for you.”

“I don’t nee-'' Harry begins to sigh.

“You do. I lo-love you. And y’do. Please, Haz.’’ He says earnestly. ‘’You’re everything, babe. I love you.”

He might have said ‘the sky is blue’ or ‘grape jam is my favorite,’ for all of the fanfare he gave the little phrase. But, even under those circumstances, Harry knows they have always been profound whether because of the way they make his soul burn up in flames or whether it's because Louis has no idea about the insurmountable effect they have on him. Sometimes, he feels that Louis says it lightly on purpose or else Harry will simply burn to ashes. It’s funny, the moment when Harry realizes this, how somewhere along the line of what they fell into, how accidentally Louis discovered the power of those three words and the effect they're having on him right now. Harry says it all the time, tucked between other things like “pass the toothpaste” and “are you going to Niall’s tonight?” and “your skin looks as beautiful in the moonlight as it does every morning when the sunrise first lights it up.” He has told Louis he loves him so many times that he cannot hope to count it, yet when he hears it from Louis' lips; he always holds his breath, because if he says it casually he just has to, you know, hold his breath but when he says it with underlined seriousness as he is right now, Louis might as well have just lit some sort of magical torch and flamed up his soul, and its like the beginning again, when they were making confessions, like he had just said the kind of thing Harry's been thinking since before they were even together, things like 'you're beautiful and I don't know if you feel the same way'. Those three words are always on the tip of Harry's tongue but when Louis says them, it makes him look so pathetically in love that he just can’t say no, so it works just how he expected it to.

“Alright,” Harry sighs. “For how long per day, love?”

''Whatever y-you need. Wh-whatever you w-want.”

Harry sighs. “Alright. But if you wake up and I’m not …”

“I’ll go back to sleep,” Louis smiles. “Or m-make the…the boys s-sing m-me to sleep. Not h-hard.”

“Okay.'' Harry says with a pang of jealousy. He wants to be the one to sing Louis to sleep, goddammit. ''I don’t like it, but okay. I love you; that’s the only reason, y’understand? Otherwise I wouldn’t even  _dream_  of leaving you,” Harry insists with a stern kiss on Louis' fingertips.

“Not leavin’,” Louis corrects. “Not f’real.”

“Never for real.” Harry can see Louis' eyes drooping and he knows he'll be asleep soon. So he puts his lips to work and kisses every part of Louis' face. “You’re everything too, babe.” he says. “More than you know.”

“But not more than…you are to me.” Louis says as he tilts his forehead to Harry's cheek before he closes his eyes. It’s just a little contact but it’s better than anything else that Harry could think of to comfort him.

Harry plants one last kiss in the middle of Louis' forehead. “I’ll get the nurse for some more antibiotics. And then I promise I’ll get in bed.”

Just Louis' loving look is reward enough.

 

They’re supposed to just kiss goodnight. The boys have gone home to their hotel rooms and Harry is supposed to be in bed but of course, Harry cannot sleep without a goodnight kiss and neither can Louis really but soon, logic flies in the air and the kiss is turning into a proper snog.

The heart monitor is slightly spiking in the background but Louis doesn't lose his grip around Harry's neck, sitting on the side of the bed with his legs dangling and bracketing Harry’s thighs. Harry cannot relinquish his hold around Louis' waist either, with the way his boyfriend's lips are slapping wetly against his. Harry is losing it; he hasn't been properly snogged in weeks and he is so not missing out on this.

Louis on the other hand, is right on the same page that basically, the kiss has turned into a power play of who can out-snog who. It’s a violent kiss is what it is, Louis' tongue attacking his lips until he lets him in, messy with teeth and breathless, prickling tears and exasperation from having wanted this for so long. Harry's is just as over-zealous; hands wrapped around Louis' waist, almost holding him up, big fingers digging into Louis' shoulders blades and kissing back with the same brutal enthusiasm.

It’s obvious how each of them is trying to swallow the other up, vicious and inescapable, and neither is really sure who is winning. Harry isn’t even sure of what he wants anymore, it’s like he’s being torn apart with wanting to kiss Louis into oblivion or actually allowing his ears to hear the dangerous acceleration of the heart monitor in the background and come out of his haze, disappointed. Louis on the other hand, pushes in on himself, emotions and body pushing through to the breaking point. His only guess is that he just wants to feel better, _normal_ , and not let his stay in the hospital get in the way of his and Harry's relationship but then again, with the way he can feel his fingers trembling and his body losing strength, he’s beginning to think he never would.

He clutches at Harry though, brain going cloudy with the taste of his boyfriend's lips as he takes shorter and shorter breaths. The lack of oxygen presses painfully on his chest, his left pec throbbing with a damaged heart working double-time and yet he relishes the way it numbs his senses, makes the blood rush in his ears. He knows he should breathe, pull back and come up for air, but somehow he’d gotten oxygen and Harry confused, and it’s all he could do to move his lips against Harry’s.

Faintness encroaches on his mind and he sags a bit in Harry's arms, a small moan falling against his mouth, a ragged breath filling his tired lungs.

Before he knows it, it's Harry gripping Louis' face, forcing him to continue with the kissing. The sound of Louis' ragged breathing and gasping is such a turn on that he doesn't think his boyfriend is actually in danger. The heart monitor is beating erratically and Louis’ arms are no longer around Harry’s neck but trying to push away Harry's chest, gasping from the pain but all Harry hears is bliss and he continues, shoving his tongue down Louis throat, holding his face closer, not leaving an inch between their lips. It's only when Louis starts to grow limb, his mouth almost hanging open that Harry opens his eyes and sees Louis' eyes losing focus and his lips tinted blue. His alarm registers through Louis' fluttering eyelids, Harry's voice panicked and low.

“Louis? Shit, Louis, say something.” He demands, strong hands gripping Louis’ waist again and holding him upright as the spots in Louis’ vision begin to fade with every quick inhale. “Louis you fucking idiot, say something.”

Louis coughs, trembling fingers gripping Harry’s shoulders, knocking their noses together as he tries to sit upright instead of hunched against Harry’s chest. “Sorry.”

Harry presses his lips fiercely to his forehead. “You better fucking be sorry. I swear to god, if you ever fucking do that again…” He trails off, squeezing his eyes tightly shut because this is his fault and he shouldn’t be blaming Louis for not being able to keep up. Louis grows limb and its useless trying to sit upright so he lets his body fall back to the bed so he can lie back down, sagging against his side. Inwardly, he’s berating himself for being so weak, for not being able to kiss his boyfriend the way that Harry wanted. He feels frustrated and annoyed at himself and so, so ashamed for thinking he could do it. But what was he thinking? The heart monitor doesn’t stop beating.

''Shit!'' Harry curses as the alarming noise finally registers. His hands immediately move until they find the oxygen mask. He places it on Louis' mouth roughly, hands shaking with panic at the withering paleness on Louis' cheeks and the fact that his eyes are shut tight, like he’s in pain, is not helping.

“No, no, Lou, calm down,” Harry says quickly, eyes darting between the heart monitor and Louis' closed eyelids. He pushes at Louis’ shoulder so he can lie on his back instead of on his side, hunched inwardly, putting pressured weight on his chest. He needs Louis to breathe, fuck.

“Breathe. Stay there and breathe and let me apologize, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, calm down. It’s okay. It’s alright.” He kisses Louis' forehead several times, rubbing the back of Louis' hand with his thumb soothingly when he pulls back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Please, Lou, I'm sorry.” Mortified tears start falling from his eyes and his chest feels clogged up. Before he knows it, he falls into a coughing fit, head falling on Louis' chest as he tries to get it over with so that he could tend to Louis.

But he feels so contrite. The guilt welling up in his chest forces him to cry harder, muttered apologies falling from his lips, desperate to make this right.

He doesn't know how much time passes before he feels familiar fingers card through his hair. He looks up, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks blotched to see Louis looking at him. There’s so much _longing_  that Harry feels warmer, somehow.

''Lou, I…'' he starts but Louis shakes his head. There's an air of surrender in the way he's just looking at Harry as he steadies his breathing. They stay like that, staring at each other for a while, until it settles, until they both know that no one is at fault, that they’re not blaming each other and that they’re both precious in each other’s eyes so they need to be careful and gentle. With as much of a steady breathe as he could muster, Louis slides across the bed to one side and pats the empty side next to him, eyes not once leaving Harry's. Harry wants to cry some more but he can barely breathe as it is. So he picks up his oxygen mask discarded on the chair and scoots up on the bed. Louis turns his back to him but reaches behind for him and Harry knows what he wants. He pulls the blanket and covers them both before he places his arms around Louis' waist and dips his head in the space between Louis' jaw and shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

''I love you. I'm sorry.'' Harry whispers one last time.

Louis shakes his head and simply wraps his arms around that of Harry's and that's how they fall asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

_''Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.”_

**Bob Dylan**

 

Morning comes a little bit too early, and somehow their positions got switched up. Louis' head is buried into Harry's chest, jaws clenched, eyes squeezed shut. Harry is the first to wake up from the uneven rhythm of the heart monitor. It’s not loud like the night before but uneven, wrong.

He looks at his boy and notices that Louis is clammy with sweat, hand on his chest trembling and balled into a fist, knuckles all white and Harry knows that his muscles must be achy. His hospital gown is sticking unpleasantly to where he’s touching Harry's skin, probably leaving him with a damp chill in his bones. He shifts in the hopes of sneaking away for a quick shower, but he barely moves an inch when Louis makes a tiny painful noise and presses his forehead into his sternum, so Harry stays where he is.

He feels pretty shitty himself, chest heavy like he isn’t getting quite enough oxygen into his lungs. He peers down and notices his oxygen mask under his chin so he pulls it up and takes a couple of gulps and instantly feels better. Louis on the other hand does not look too good. Harry wonders vaguely if his heart is filling up, if he’s on the verge of drowning inside of himself. He thinks maybe it should worry him a little, but laid there next to him, it all seems a bit pointless.

He reaches out, trying to jostle Louis as little as possible, and presses the red call button on the side of the bed. A nurse is there not much later, a dark-haired woman he hasn't seen before.

She assesses the situation from the doorway, eyeing the heart monitor, then, holding up a finger and dashing out. She comes back with a small white prescription bottle, eyes serious and hands professional. She unscrews the cap as she moves to Harry's side, taking one of his hands and cupping it, giving him two white pills. “They should start working for him in a few minutes.” She murmurs, finding the half full water bottle on the bed side and holding it out for Harry to take.

Harry pulls himself slowly upward with one hand, keeping a key grip around Louis' shoulder, nudging the pained lad up with him. “You have to sit up, babe. Just for a minute.” He says softly because Louis is completely slugged against him and he moans softly in reply now, too weak. Harry places his free hand on Louis’ left pec and massages gently. Louis takes a deep breath and Harry hopes he’s helping.

''C'mon, it won't take long, just a second love, I promise.'' Harry says. It’s enough and Louis lets him prop him carefully against his shoulder. Harry is glad that Louis’ got his arms around his waist, glad that Louis has something to hold unto, someone to help him with this, even if the agonized look on Louis's face induces an awful feeling and a blaze of guilt bubbling up inside him. Harry just wants to take Louis' pain away, because watching him like this hurts just as much as the pressure in his lungs. “Take these, okay? You’ll feel better.”

Louis reached out blindly so Harry pressed the pills into his grasp before pulling down Louis' oxygen mask. He watched the boy swallow them up before he hands him the water bottle. He watches his shaking fingers and makes sure he gulps a good share of water. Once Louis managed to get the pills down, Harry relieves him of the water, places the oxygen mask back then lets him curl up across his lap with soft noises of suffering that escapes his lips every time he moves.

Harry finds no choice but to remain sitting up now that Louis is huddled in a fetus position, his head on Harry's lap but it startles him when the nurse presses a button and adjusts the bed so that he can sit back and relax rather than keep himself upright. She remains standing after that so when Harry looks up, he sees her eyes fill with a peculiar kind of sadness. He gives her a thin lipped smile which she returns after a long moment, looking a bit lost in the half light from the doorway. Harry wonders what she sees in them, what she makes of the way he looks at Louis, of the way that Louis trusts him unabashedly to never leave his side. He wonders if it’s their fame she’s going to remember or this; two boys trying finding more comfort in each other’s arms in a hospital room rather than in their wealth combined. He thinks it’s the latter.

“Thank you.” Harry murmurs, staring up at her with honest eyes.

She nods. “Take care of him.”

He returns the nod. _I always will,_ he thinks.

She turns to leave, that peculiar sadness still hanging heavy in her eyes.

It takes Louis nearly twenty minutes to come back to Harry. By that time, the sky outside is infinitesimally lighter than when he’d first woken up and the hospital is beginning to lose the cloudy stillness of nighttime, slowly coming to life around them.

It’s a slow process, but the heart monitor evens out, Louis finally emerges from his pain induced fog, turning unto his back and blinking up at Harry with hooded blue eyes.

“Sorry about that.” He murmurs in his sleepy morning voice, low and coarse, the words sliding together a bit. He looks like a kitten the way he rubs his eyes. It’s endearing to say the least.

“It’s okay.” Harry kisses him quickly on the forehead. He feels accomplished even though Louis doesn't exactly say thank you but Harry doesn't need to hear it, not at all.

 

The week finally passes and a couple of days after, they're finally on the plane back to London. Harry's cures and Louis' antibiotics have worked out. The hole in his heart is still there, irreparable but he's better, somehow. News leaked on the internet about Louis' predicament but management was able to do perfect damage control, saying that Louis had gotten the flu, got a bad, allergic reaction to the antibiotics administered to him but the doctors fixed him up and now he's stellar. Only the boys know the truth and for once, they're glad the timing is right and that they're on their way home to London without the need to cancel any shows.

Harry will absolutely not leave Louis though, even now as he insists that Louis takes him with him to Doncaster, a week after staying in their flat in London. Jay has been very worried and would've come straight to their flat if she didn't have the girls to tend to so, like the good boy that he is, Louis’ promised that as soon as he rests up a bit in London, he'll go straight home and that time is now.

“You shouldn’t go without me, I'm telling you.” Harry says, sitting on the bed as he watches Louis pack. Normally, he would help his boyfriend in the process and even muck around a bit but today, it’s all he could do not to snatch every item out of the suitcase and put it back where it belongs in their cupboard. “We don’t even know if you can drive on your own, I mean you just got back and a week is not enough for you to suddenly be exerting yourself. You need a wingman with you and what better than your own boyfriend, don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” Louis acceded easily, pushing another soft beanie into place. “Which is why Alberto is going to drive me while I languish in the backseat and enjoy road music. Seriously, Harry this is your break too and you need it to rest without my sorry arse. Besides, I know your intentions are good but you don't need to babysit me, even though I love it a bunch but am a big boy, okay?” His quirked eyebrow is in full humor as he continues his steady effort.

Much to Harry’s dismay, none of the lads were on Harry's side on this one. They had all agreed that Louis needs to spend some down time with his family in his childhood home, in his quiet town, away from the bustle and hustle of the city and certainly away from London's paparazzi and their nosy media-centered life. They had all urged Harry to do the same; go see his family, relieve himself from the stress of the week that had passed, go golfing and do all those out-door activities that he's so fond of.

Louis gave the lad all the right reasons, even more convincing than that of the boys. The mobbing was fiercer than ever when he’d collapsed. He can validate that it really scared him and had come out to confirm that he had experienced some unprecedented degree of fear and therefore a quiet vacation is truly the solution but he also wants that for Harry and if he gets seen around Doncaster playing nurse with Louis, its like pouring oil to the flames. Therefore, as soon as he'd gained back some strength, Louis had decided it was time to take a brief trip back and that he should do it alone.

Harry’s initial instinct was guilt; that Louis wanted to wallow up by himself because of how much anxiety and concern he'd caused his band mates. Therefore, he wanted to once more tell Louis that it wasn’t his fault that all this had happened to him; no one could foresee the incident that took place on stage, the mobbing and how it would unravel into a hospital stay. It truly wasn’t Louis’ fault, no matter how little the guy could see that, and he deserved the break, he really did but Harry’s petty side had other ideas – selfish, inconsiderate ideas that were fueled by his desire to have Louis to himself forever and always. So instead of reassuring him of his need to do this much needed trip solo, Harry tore his boyfriend down a little more. “Look, I know you can take care of yourself, I know Jay will do wonders to keep you comfy but you yourself said that the reason why she couldn't come here is because she's busy with the girls, which means no one is exactly there to watch out for you. I mean, what if you're alone in your room and you get an attack or something? Did you think of that? Don’t think so.”

Harry has meant to sound nonchalant, but judging by Louis’ expression, he hasn’t succeeded very well. Louis instantly knew something was off, and sent him a strange look out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s gotten into you today? You never bring my mom into this, hell you don't ever bring her up when it comes to talking about my little ticker.'' He points at his chest, indicating his heart. ''Besides, she hasn't spent the money I sent her two weeks ago so now, she's decided to use it to hire a babysitter, enabling her to take a week off work to be with me. If anything, she's going to suffocate me with her endless TLC.'' Unfortunately, that was true. “And I know I’ve always said I’d come running back here when she starts doing that but nothing wrong with letting her pamper me every now and then, especially after what happened, so really, Haz; I've got it covered.”

That is all true too, much to Harry’s annoyance. He was running out of ideas that would sound logical and sane. He begins grasping at straws. “What about if I stay in a nearby hotel? Just in case she got called to work on an emergency or something? She’s always taking on a lot of extra shifts because the hospital she works in is understaffed right? You told me so yourself, Lou.”

“There are loads and loads of other options I can think of than getting you to blow your chance of seeing your mom and sister, love. Really, Harry, you're worrying too much.” Louis brushes it off, waving a scarf at him before packing it away. Louis’ side of the closet and half of Harry’s are looking frighteningly bare now. Harry loves it when Louis takes some of his sweaters but right now, he does not appreciate it. “Now, I think you ought to start packing too lest Anne comes here and packs your things up herself. God knows she might end up cleaning the apartment too which means I get a scolding for letting you live in a pig's den. Don't want that, thank you very much. Besides, I'll probably get bored and end up staying less than a week. You won't even get to miss me.''

No matter what Louis says, Harry knew his boy; he’s going to stay at home for the two weeks left until they're back to performing again, as he could never resist his family.

“But I worry too,” Harry argues. “Don't I get to pamper you as well? You're my boyfriend, Louis.”

''And you will get the chance to do that, love– in like, a week at most. Seriously,” Louis says in a lower tone, pausing to look Harry right in the eyes. His eyebrows drawn together in a frown that looks more concerned than confused. “What is it with you this morning? You know I’m not leaving you, right? I’d never leave you, like ever. This is just temporary while I give this heart of mine some sort of break and proper rest.”

Harry does know that; it only makes his selfishness sound that much more pathetic in his head. “I know,” he says dully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?” Louis says brightly, and turns back to his packing.

Harry watches Louis stuff garment after garment into the suitcase until it’s nearly full, feeling himself become more and more hollow inside. It feels like Louis’ tugging Harry’s heart out of his chest and packing it too, taking it away and leaving the rest of him sitting there on the bed to wait for his return.

Okay, perhaps that’s slightly melodramatic for the situation, but the point is that Harry hates the idea of not being able to stumble onto Louis torturing food in the kitchen or stay up late talking with him when he had only just got his boyfriend back again. That is the worst of it, he decides, knowing that he has only just regained his best friend from the hospital before he is taken away again. How is he to know that Louis will come back this time if he isn’t there to keep him safe?

All too soon, Harry is jolted out of his reverie by a metallic, jangling sound. Louis is leaning on top of the stuffed suitcase with one arm, trying to zip the outside shut before securing the extra buckles over the top of it all. “There,” he says in a satisfied voice, smiling like he really believes he’s done a decent job when Harry knows that the second he gets it open again, those clothes would be flung across the room like a projectile weapon. He’d seen it happen before, and he has no doubt that he would see it again. It’s part of the reason their hotel room is always so messy because neither of them bother to collect the cloth shrapnel afterwards until the very last minute.

“Have I missed anything?” Louis asks out loud, speaking to himself more than Harry. He does a quick glance about him once or twice and then shrugs. “Oh, well. It won’t matter.”

“Don’t go.”

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop them, and he feels his cheeks warm up slightly as Louis turns to look at him. Though his face is flushing, his insides feel cold.

“Harry?” Louis asks, his voice gentled by concern. “Are you sure you're alright?”

“Look, if I can't come then you shouldn’t go,” Harry says again, feeling like a broken record. He can feel his eyes beginning to ache in the corners and he knows that if he stops speaking, that stinging would become moisture and he doesn’t want to cry over something as utterly ridiculous as this.

Louis looks honestly bewildered. “Why? It’s just a couple of days – a week at most.”

Harry stares at some point on the carpet beneath his feet as he mumbles, “Because I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”

At first the older boy’s expression softens at Harry’s admission, and then it melts into a gooey, affectionate grin that has his blue eyes glowing with adoration. “Aw, Harry,” he coos before plonking himself on the edge of the bed to pull Harry into a side hug. “Are you going to miss me that much?”

For one of the first times in their entire relationship, Harry shakes him off. Louis looks startled, arms falling into his lap. Harry stares back at him without blinking and though his eyes have remained blessedly dry, he has to swallow past the hard lump that nearly prevents him from speaking. His face is pale but for the tiny pink splotches that sits high on his cheekbones.

“I mean it,” he tells Louis, holding his gaze to show him that he’s serious. His eyebrows are arched together in a pathetic frown, and his green eyes are so suffused with sadness that they have dulled to a pale jade color. “I don’t want you to go without me. I refuse that, so just, no.”

Instantly, Louis’ expression shifts into something more serious. His eyes roam Harry’s face and read all of the whirling emotions playing across his unguarded features. The teasing light has faded from his expression and his teeth worries at his bottom lip a few times.

“You really do mean it, don’t you?” he asks softly.

With a self-deprecating shrug, Harry nods meekly. “I do.” He stares into Louis’ eyes, selfishly hoping to find some sort of hesitance there, but instead finds only his boyfriend’s concern and anxiety.

''Harry, you're really blowing this out of proportion.''

At those words, Harry felt a warm flush bubble in his chest at the caring look on Louis’ face, free of condescension and teasing which to his horror, causes all of the fear he’s been bottling up rise to the surface to choke him. The words travel up from his throat and stutter their way off of his tongue. “I just… I don’t really want to be away from you at the moment, not when I just got you back and you were so close to being gone forever. You don’t know what it’s like, the way that I freak out whenever you’re five minutes later than I expect you to be ‘cause I can’t help but imagine you collapsed in a ditch somewhere or hyperventilating with your chest aching as hell, and I ache too, so much it’s exhausting.” His voice breaks but he soldiers on. “And I know it’s selfish and stupid but I don’t want you to go somewhere where I don’t know that you’re absolutely, completely, utterly, one hundred percent alright, and I know that right now, after our last concert, you're not all that. So, if I cannot come, like at all, then, you stay, okay? Just, I really want you to stay, is that so hard to do? I can take care of you, I’ll do whatever you want, be whatever you want just…can’t you just stay here and not leave me ever?”

While Harry has managed not to let any tears escape his eyes, he finds that his breath has shortened the longer he spoke to the point where his words were competing with the shallow breaths that forced themselves past his lips. His chest was rising and falling too quickly and it feels like a panic attack. His lips tremble with the effort of keeping both competing tasks at bay.

“Harry…” Louis shakes his head in sad fondness and this time, as he reaches for him, Harry does not fight Louis as the older teen places himself on Harry's lap, legs bent as they bracket Harry’s thighs, hands wrapped around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

They stay like that for a while before Louis draws back a bit, placing his little hands on either side of Harry’s face drawing him in close so their foreheads rest together. And, just as he always does, Harry draws a quick, shuddering gasp before relaxing into the grip. He focuses his eyes on the fuzzy blue patches of color in front of him.

“It’s alright,” Louis soothes him quietly, putting his arms around Harry loosely, his forehead just a couple inches from Harry's. “I’m alright, love, I’m sitting right here with you and I’m fine. I’m not aching as far as I'm aware, I’m not lying in a ditch – I’m here with you, alright?” Harry lets his eyes slip closed as Louis’ low voice wash over him. “It’s just you and me.”

They sit like that for a full minute, Harry drawing him closer, breathing him in, placing his forehead on Louis' neck and enjoying the feel of his pulse against his skin. It’s both comforting and daunting, knowing that he can feel Louis’ heart beating and yet has to maintain the fact that there’s a hole in that exact same, lovely, kind heart that ought not to let him put his guard down. But for now, he lets Louis' voice soothe him, lets the feel of his pulse fill him with safety. He tightens his grip on each elbow, arms around Louis at the small of his back to keep him there on his lap. Louis continues whispering reassuring platitudes until Harry’s calmed down a bit and his breathing evens out.

Then, Louis sits back, resting his bum on the curve of Harry's knees and meets Harry’s weary gaze with a soft expression. “Well, if you’re that worried about my safety,” he says slowly, “Then fine, come with me,” he decides gently.

The curly-haired boy blinks in surprise. He didn't think Louis would change his mind, even after he fretted agonizingly over Louis’ departure. “Oh.”

Louis laughs lightly at the look on his face. “You think I wasn't going to give in after this little melt down of yours?” he teases gently, pressing their foreheads together once more before pulling away. “You know you’re always welcome back home and I know the girls will love to see you again. Ten quid says they hug you before they hug me, you charmer.”

“Well that's why you got me; for all the free hugs in the world. You like my hugs, don't you?” Harry checks, sobering up already.

Louis brushes it off with a wave of his hand. “Of course not; I love Niall's more. He isn't called King of Horan hugs for nothing, you know?” With a cheeky smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows, he pulls out his phone and stands up to make a call to Alberto, knowing that Harry is going to assign himself the designated driver before he can even ask him.

‘’Hey, that is so not true, take that back.’’ Harry pouts, feeling lighter and lighter.

‘’Fine, fine, I take it back.’’ Louis says with an eye roll. Mobile pressed to his ear, he covers the microphone before gesturing imperiously at Harry, who is busy shaking his head fondly. “You better call your mom and change plans, darling then start packing, alright?'' He says as Harry graciously stands up but keeps smiling at him and not moving. ''Get a move on. Shake that money-making little tushy of yours and– oh, hi Al!” he said brightly, smiling into the call.

With a tiny giggle, Harry rushes out of the room to head for his own phone, feeling more tired yet lighter and happier than he had in days.

 


	16. Chapter 16

_So, baby, hold on to my heart,_  
_Need you to keep me from falling apart._  
_I'll always hold on._  
_'Cause you make me strong._

**One Direction**

 

The car ride over is quiet and Harry doesn't mind at all. He’s glad he has the coffee thermos in the console of the car because with the volume of the music turned down, he might actually fall asleep. Louis is swaddled in a blanket next to him. He’s got the seat rolled back so that he can lie down and is in a deep slumber, not once tossing since dawn. They’ve decided to leave early to avoid the traffic, leaving a voice message for the rest of the boys in case they wonder where they are.

Harry keeps his eyes on the road, knowing that it wouldn't help to be concerned if he keeps thinking of whether Louis is sleeping okay or if his chest is aching or any other similar prospects. God knows that since their last concert, his anxieties over Louis have shot up the roof by a long mile. Some mornings, Harry still wakes up early to check that Louis is beside him in bed, alive, that he is alright. Sometimes, Harry's breathing would speed up alarmingly, panic attack trying to claw out of him, and only the feel of Louis' heartbeat under his palm or Louis’ soothing hands on Harry's back would calm him down.

He’d insisted that Louis sprawl out in the backseat but Louis was too stubborn and had plonked himself in the passenger seat, refusing to be anywhere but by Harry's side. Harry could've tackled him but knows the result would be perilous to the timing they wanted to maintain for their trip so he had no choice but to let his boyfriend ride shotgun.

When they arrive at Doncaster, Louis is still asleep. He’d woken up for a bite on the side of the road but his new after-meal medicine induced some more sleep and Harry doesn't want to bother him. So, he simply pulls out the suitcases and rings the Tomlinson household by himself.

Jay opens the door with a big smile but a confused look on her face.

‘’Hey Harry,’’ he says, giving him a big hug. When she pulls back, her confusion increases. ‘’Where’s Lou?’’

‘’He’s still asleep in the car,’’ Harry answers with a chuckle.

‘’Oh, alright, here you can get these in.’’ Jay says, stretching up on her toes as Harry piles the suitcases under the coat rack. ‘’Best wake him up then,’’ she says as she reaches for her coat. ‘’You go inside and warm up, dear.’’

‘’No, it’s alright. I’ve got this.’’ He doesn’t wait for her reply nor does he give her the chance to step out of the door. Knowing Jay, she was probably about to carry her own son herself, bless her and well, he wouldn’t be a gentleman if he let that happen.

As soon as Harry’s carried Louis upstairs to his old room and made sure he looked comfortable in his childhood bed, he reluctantly goes downstairs to join Jay for tea.

As they sit there in the kitchen, Harry tells her everything, as difficult as it is to re-live the horrible story of that night, the night that they got mobbed and Louis had collapsed.

Jay kept shaking her head sadly, raking her fingers through her hair in a bout of concern at what Harry has told her.

‘’Thank you for telling me.’’ She says, her voice not quite thick as it was emotionally honest. Harry’s glad he didn't hide from her the truth. Knowing Louis, he probably would have lightened it up for her sake so she’s glad that Harry didn't.

''He's still not changing his mind after all that?'' Jay asks after a while, already sharing their second cup of tea.

''Change his mind about what?''

''Honey,'' Jay sighs. ''You know that I want him to quit right? I mean, I think he's proven his point already, that he can sing and all.''

''Quit? You mean…the band?'' Harry doesn't know what to feel, thinks he'd just grown a lump the size of a melon in his chest.

''Well, yes.'' Jay says gently, carefully eyeing Harry. ''You know he can't go on like this. He's getting worse, Harry. Surely you can see that?''

Harry can see that, has seen it all those days ago when Louis fucking passed out on him, on stage in front of thousands of people. He was there; he saw the blood, saw it all. But still, he didn't think it would come to this. One Direction…without Louis?

''Well, it's not up to me, innit?'' he tries to dodge.

''Honey, it's not just the band he's being stubborn about staying in this industry for. You know that. '' Jay says with a knowing look in her eyes. Harry almost flinches at her insinuation.

''I'm not as important as his health.'' The words are acid in his ears. Louis is everything to him but he can’t be everything to Louis. He shouldn’t expect it and thrive off of it and yet, it feels horrible just thinking that he is of less importance in anything when it comes to Louis’ well-being. ''I'm sure he knows his priorities.''

''You're dodging the question so you know what? I'm going to be blunt with you, if you don't mind.'' Jay says with a mild hint of Louis' sass. ''Louis is not going to quit the band and not just because the band needs him but because you need him. Priorities? Trust me, love. You've got him so wrapped up around your finger that his health does not even make the top ten spots.''

She is not mean. There's actually a hint of annoyed fondness if nothing else and her words did not sound vicious but they're knives straight to his vital organs. He knows he loves Louis and Louis has proven time and again how much Harry is loved in return by him but not at the expense of his health, not like this.

''That's not true.'' Harry's voice is small and he feels on the verge of tears.

''Really? Then surely you must have asked him to quit too. Is that what you’re saying? You believe his health matters more compared to you?''

''Of course it does!'' God he doesn't want to shout at Louis' mom but she's making this extremely difficult.

''Look, you love him right?''

''Yes!''

''He's number one in your heart?''

''He's number one in my life. God, Jay, he beats all my priorities, so what is your point here?'' his voice croaks because no one should dare question his love for Louis and Jay is the least person he expected to hear such doubt from.

''My point is, love.'' she pauses, as if for effect. Her eyes are soft and oh so blue and it's hard to focus when it's like Louis' eyes staring straight back at him. ''When it comes to what beats all his priorities, what makes you think that Louis doesn't feel the exact same way in regards to you?''

Harry stares at her for what seems close to a minute, with no answer in mind, no reply to produce. He still doesn't find words when he hears footsteps from upstairs and he hears Louis' voice calling his name.

''We're in the kitchen, Boobear.'' Jay calls back, keeping eye contact with Harry until the footsteps get louder and only then does she break her gaze and stands up, getting a third mug from the cupboard for Louis.

''Mom, don't call me that. It's embarrassing.'' Louis whines as he plonks himself on Harry's lap like it’s a self-proclaimed seat and pouts.

Harry smiles at Louis, arms automatically wrapping around Louis’ waist. Louis’ presence, like the little ball of sunshine that he is, outshines the gloomy atmosphere and Jay starts talking about the girls and work and whatnot. The dread that had surrounded him earlier dissipates with Louis' smile and radiance and mere existence in the room.

 

That night, Harry cannot sleep. He's on the couch, as Jay doesn't want any funny business going on even though he and Louis never got passed intense making out and spooning as Louis had told her countless times. But after their talk, Harry tells Louis that it's fine which, is a first. Louis usually puts up a valiant fight every time bed time arises, saying that Harry can stay in his bed and that its no different from their x-factor days and Harry stands by with big green innocent eyes, pulling out every charming look out of the bag until Jay concedes but this time, Harry tells Louis there is no need and he's doesn’t mind the couch. Louis is not pleased, but Harry's mind is more occupied with Louis' heart problems more than him being upset right now…

''Harry?''

Harry jolts off the couch, pulls himself up and squints in the dark at the figure standing by him, timid and shy.

''Louis? Geez, love, you scared me.''

''I'm sorry.''

''No.'' Harry sighs and sits up properly, rubbing at his eyes. ''Its okay, wasn't asleep anyways.''

''Yeah, me too.''

They're silent for a bit before Harry reaches for his general direction, waits till Louis catches his hand but doesn't approach so Harry tugs.

''Come here.'' Harry says fondly, pulling Louis towards him until Louis is seated next to him.

Louis drapes himself over Harry’s lap, rather dramatically, places his head on his thighs and folds himself up small. He looks up at Harry, eyes clear and bright.

“What do you want?” Harry asks gently.

“You,” Louis says, almost testing out the idea.

“Okay.'' Harry chuckles. ''I'm yours though, so.”

“Pet my hair?” Harry doesn’t have to be told twice; he combs Louis’ hair back from his forehead, and Louis continues. “Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Very very comfortable,” Harry smiles. “Honestly.”

“I can see now why you chose the couch then.” Harry cannot see but he knows that Louis is smiling, teasing if a little slightly hurt.

“Hey, it’s not like that. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Harry sighs. ''Mostly you.'' He adds with a shrug.

Louis snorts. “Yeah, well, same obviously. But I like you in my bed, cupcake.'' Harry chuckles and Louis sighs, deeply content. ''Living with you and being with you and doing everything with you, I like all that. So, I'm kind've surprised that after your very dramatic melt-down, you chose the couch instead of staying with me. Don't you find that odd, Mr. Styles?” he asks in a deep accent. It always intrigues Harry how Louis can be more British than the rest of them- if there's even such an expression- when they are overseas just as much as when he’s in his hometown.

“I like all that too,” he says softly, brushing through Louis’ hair some more. “I'm just feeling a little low tonight.”

“I’m not doing enough with you, then,” Louis says after a moment. “I mean, thank you for just telling me stuff like that with such honesty. But surely I'm lacking in something if you’re feeling like this.”

“Louis, I'm not trying to avoid you because you're lacking in something and like, you're not lacking at all, in anything. It's just, there's a lot on my mind right now. Honestly, I had every intention of crawling into your bed straight after if it wasn't for your little visit.”

Louis ignores him. “I heard what you and mom said.''

Harry is quiet for a bit. Then he exhales.

''Of course you did.''

''Look, I don't like what she said, but I hate what you said more because I don't like you selling yourself short.”

In the back of his mind, Harry thinks he ought to have seen this turn of event, only perhaps as him being the one to bring up the subject. For Louis to have heard all that, like really and not bluffing, has now made him speechless.

''Wow, okay. Umm,'' Harry really doesn't like the prolonged silence but he truly can't think of anything else to say.

''Harry,'' Louis sighs, burying his face in Harry's hip close to his stomach and shaking his head. ''You know how much I love you, right? Curls, dimples, smiles, your massively big fat heart and all that?''

Harry’s blushing from the unexpected attention. “Um, thanks.”

“Oh, you like this? Okay, let me think of more. Um…I love how big your hands are. I feel really safe when you’re holding mine in them, I love that. And you…hmm.” Louis makes a bit of a face, then says, “You always mean well, even when you shout at me. You let me do what you know I want to do, whether it be to drink something aside from protein shakes, God those things are dreadful.'' He chuckles. Harry giggles as he continues somberly. ''Or… or even work.”

''Okay.'' Harry suddenly feels dread at where this is going because it might end in a break up, like there's supposed to be a 'but' coming up soon or something with all the reasons why they should no longer be together.

''And I really have to thank you,” Louis says in an odd tone. “For everything that you've done for me. I needed you that day. I was so scared of the mob and you were there, even if you were just scared as I was. I’ve needed you for a lot of days after, if I’m being honest, and I do notice all the little things you’ve been doing for me; keeping the focus away from me, making sure I know what’s going on, taking my pills, making sure I'm well-rested that I can’t…Even just with mom today, I'm not really upset with you because I know you were taken off-guard so don't think I blame you for anything because I don't.”

He hesitates then; not for lacking of things to say, but as if he was summoning the strength to be able to say them. His lips twists in a light grimace.

“It's just that I don't want to say something that might come out the complete opposite but since there's no way around it, then I'll just say it for what it is.'' He draws in a deep breath then sits up, crosses his legs and faces Harry directly. ''I am not quitting the band.’’

Harry doesn’t know what to say and he hopes his blankness doesn’t frustrate Louis. It doesn’t. They just stare at each other until Harry exhales with relief and Louis deems it appropriate to continue. ‘’And it's not to prove a point, nor is it because of you or the boys. It's because it makes me happy, gives me a sense of fulfillment, a sense of satisfaction that I never thought I needed.'' He pauses, his eyes glowing with affection. ''I love you, Harry and you play a massive part in my life but I am actually capable of thinking outside of you and never for too long, mind you.'' He adds quickly. Harry smiles; he knows what Louis means, knows that no matter what, sometimes, life catches up to them and they do get busy away from each other but never, ever far away. Like stretching a rubber band, they always snap back and fit into place. Louis tilts his head and gives a knowing, fond smile. ''Because even if I can't, I'm quite sure that I can at least stop revolving around you for one second and think of the fans and the singing and looking out on our achievements and say, ‘’yeah. I’m a part of that. I’ve got my mark on the world too.’’ But you know what?’’

‘’What?’’ Harry says, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘’It does not, by any means, make you any less important to me.’’

Harry exhales. He doesn’t know how much he needed to hear that until right then.

‘’But what makes me happy just as much as you make me happy is performing on stage, making music and all that amazing stuff we get to do together, like, I can't miss out on that, you know, just as much as I can't miss out on you.'' He breathes in and out. ''And I don't know, maybe it looks like I'm tossing my health away by standing ground but its really not so. That just so happens to be something I cannot help.''

''But she does have a point, right?'' Harry has to asks, lacing his fingers with Louis', looking anywhere but at him. ''Your mom? I mean, I don't want you to get worse, Lou. That just…freaks me out. Shit. And I can't fathom the possibilities, the worse case scenarios…''

''Hey, don't.'' Louis rubs a gentle thumb against Harry's cheek, finding it easily in the dark. ''Look, that part, I can't, that's not, I can't stop that, even if I'm not stressing out, I know that it may or may not happen.’’ he stumbles over his words and Harry doesn't like that, doesn't like Louis to be off-balance. He squeezes his hand and somehow, that grounds Louis back.

‘’But why risk it?’’ Harry says gently. ‘’Why go asking for it?’’

‘’Harry, do you know that there are perfectly healthy people out there who die of heart attacks at the prime of their youths?’’ Louis says patiently. ‘’There are teenagers who die of aneurysms, healthy young adults who don’t even lift a finger or who exercise every day then oops, a heart attack, for no reason at all. You see, those things just happen and it’s not up to me and like,'' he pauses. ‘’''Haz, what I'm trying to say is this; I don't want to stress about something that may or may not take place and the same applies to you. I just want to be twenty years old, and live my life to the fullest, no take backs. I don’t want to sit around, wondering when the next attack will happen or worry all the time and be like, ‘I hope it happens so that I can just get over it,’ No. If we stumble and fall every once in a while, well, that's just life, love. Everybody goes through hurdles.''

''Yes, but.'' And Harry doesn't have to say it, what with the way his hand leaves Louis' and goes up to his chest, palm gentle on Louis' left pec.

Louis puts his own hand atop Harry's and scoots closer.

''But nothing, sweetcheeks.'' He says with a tilted smile. ''You know why this ticker is having problems?''

He's using that tone, where Harry knows he's going to be all sappy and full of cheesy shit. Harry loves him so much; Louis is practically making his life a blissful heaven on earth.

''Why?''

''Because of how much it’s combusting with love for you.''

Harry knew it. Doesn't stop him from rolling his eyes though.

''You're disgusting.'' He says as he tries to stifle his laughter.

''What? You like this mushy shit.'' Louis grins.

''Hey.'' Harry pouts. Louis simply giggles.

''C'mere, Love.'' Louis says, scooting towards the corner of the couch and pulling Harry towards him till the boy is lying down, his head on Louis' stomach. Harry hugs him tight, arms strong around Louis' hips, fingers enclosing at Louis' hip bones.

''Don't know how you’ve found a way to cut through my bullshit, Haz.'' Louis sighs. Harry looks up and Louis puts the tips of his fingers on Harry's plump baby cheeks, loving the feel of it. ''Makes me want to give you more, always. And I know I don't say enough to prove that but you have to understand that it can be really hard for me to admit when I’m not doing so well,” he said slowly. “And while I know that I’m going to deserve the bollocking from my mom when she realizes I'm not going to quit no matter what, I still don’t like having to ask for help with this. I just, I mean, it is what it is, you know?” He pauses for the length of one heartbeat. ‘’Am I making any sense?’’

In spite of himself, Harry chuckles. “Yeah, I got it.”

“The thing is, I just want to move on, to move past this, like, live now, live for the present and think about the consequences later and that doesn’t mean I won’t take care of myself because I will. I want to live as long as I possibly can with you, if you’ll still have me and I know that it can sometimes seem like I’m not grateful for everything that you’ve done for me – but I really am. It may not seem like it, but I do appreciate what you’ve done for me and it means so much just you being there throughout all this, so…”

Harry gets up on his knees and straddles Louis but it's nothing sexual. He simply wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and pulls his face closer before he pecks him on the cheek, not pulling too far away but just close enough for their eyes to cross.

''So?'' he whispers.

Louis moves his head away for a tiny fraction to look deep into Harry’s eyes, his gaze intense enough to make the back of Harry’s neck prickle and flush with warmth. There’s a rare vulnerability about Louis’ expression, even in the dark with nothing but the moonlight from the windows streaming in, like he’s finally laying himself bare, and there is utter sincerity in his lovely blue eyes as he simply murmurs, “So…thank you, Haz. You're a dream I never knew I wanted but now am grateful to have. Can't bear not to have you in my life, my love. So, thank you.”

Harry feels that lump again only this time in his throat. He pulls Louis closer at the time as Louis puts his arms around Harry’s waist until they’re wound in a tight embrace. Harry relaxes, arms secure around Louis' shoulders and God, they just fit so perfectly like that. It never fails to do the trick of making him never up and leave because he relaxes so much into it and when they’re snuggling, Louis seems to be smaller than what he already is and Harry's heart receives fierce jolts of protectiveness. Harry moves to lie down so that Louis is draped over Harry's chest, just under the crook of his neck and Harry likes the positioning all the more because Louis can only tilt his face up to look and talk to Harry and a part of him moves instinctively to draw his boy closer even when there’s no space left. The second that he breathed in the faint smell of Louis’ aftershave and apple shampoo, Harry feels a flood of emotion that he knows only too well. It’s something he has always associated with Louis; a strange mix of happiness, vulnerability and a great amount of possessiveness and love. The happiness is obvious. The vulnerability comes from the knowledge of just how precious Louis has become and how careful he has to be with him, how much he has to treasure him, treat him special and show him how important he is in his life, how lucky he is to have someone like this and therefore, be afraid of losing him always. The last two, well, they always come hand in hand when it comes to Louis.

''Can't bear not having you either,'' Harry says quietly.

He feels Louis’ lips brush the side of his neck as the older male pulls slightly away. “You have me, Haz. I love you,” he says affectionately, tapping him lightly on the chin. “I am absolutely smitten by you, and you better remember that, ‘cause it’ll never change.” He presses two swift kisses to the underside of Harry’s jaw before he relaxes back.

“I know all that and I feel the same way.’’ He takes a deep breathe. ‘’But just to be sure, what about your mom and your health?” Harry checks seriously, as he has every time the subject’s come up. “I know you won't quit the band but you still need to find middle ground on this.”

“Jesus, Haz,” Louis sighs. “You won't let me forget, will you?”

“Not after our last concert, love. That's gonna scar me for life.”

Louis snorts. “Talk about being dramatic.” Then he relents and answers for real. “But fine, I'll talk to her.”

Harry smiles. “With me, of course.”

“Well, its not gonna be easy, without you or with you and you know, this isn't going to go away, Harry and no matter how cautious I am, there will be another incident to add up to my pile of bitter memories. It’s the reason why I don't want to quit the band because living in some countryside house with some white picket fence and a garden doing yoga instead of taking up a stage doesn't change anything either. I wish it could.” Louis admits after a moment. “Does that…am I a terrible person to wish that?”

“No, of course not.’’

Louis goes quiet for a bit but he’s blushing. Harry takes a wild guess.

‘’Do you want that? After all this? The whole house in the country side with a whi…’’

‘’Geez, no need to repeat it.’’ Louis interrupts, hiding his face in Harry’s neck. Harry’s lips widen into a smirk, a feeling of elation blossoming in his rib-cage.

‘’Well, we all have dreams after all the fame goes away. Nothing wrong with that.''

“Yeah. Yeah. Jesus Christ, yeah. Never…” Louis doesn’t get any further.

“Y’alright?” Harry asks after a long silence, the feeling of elation dimming.

“Mmhmm. Brilliant. I'm just…scared I won't get to see that day, now that you mention it.” Louis mumbles after a second.

Harry's chest constricts, elation blowing up into smoke. ''You will and you know why?''

''Why?'' Louis indulges.

''Because you're a fighter, Lou. And you're not alone. You've got me. I'll help. Always.'' Harry squeezes his hand in assurance.

''Always.''

 

Louis doesn't quit and One Direction is unstoppable. They make it through and Louis comes out of it intact with Harry right there next to him, close and all his.

 

 The End

 


End file.
